The Gospel Messenger: Volume 3 (1888)

“‘BIDE with me and give me some comfort if you can. I am dying, and I’m afraid to go away into darkness alone, and they have given me nothing to rest upon, ― nothing,― nothing,” and the head of the speaker moved to and fro on the pillow, while her bright and clear, though sunken, and restless eyes seemed to pierce me through. “Penance, good works,” she murmured, “it’s too late for those, too late―purgatory―eh, but it’s awfu’, it’s awfu’, and how could I ever get out? Who would say masses for the soul of the likes of me? My gudeman couldna’ get them said, though he would try his best. Oh, I have nothing to rest on, ―nothing, nothing, and I’m dying, and who kens what’s before me?”

The words were spoken with a mixture of Scotch and Irish accent. The speaker was Irish by birth, but had lived nearly all her life in Scotland.

Her bed was in the side room of a large hospital ward. The nurses had had to move her from the general ward, for she started and moaned all the night through, so that the other patients could not sleep. Her constant cry was, “I canna’ dee. I canna’ dee. It’s all dark, and I am afeard. Oh, they’ve given me nothing to rest upon.”

It was the first time, after some months of absence, that I had been to that hospital, and I had already outstayed my time in the large ward, and had only gone into the side ward for a moment, to leave some fresh roses, but this piteous wail of a soul in agony arrested me by her bed.

“Have you never heard of One who said, ‘Come unto me... and I will give you rest,’ even Jesus, the blessed Son of God, who came down here and suffered, and shed His blood and died, that He might be able to give rest to every weary heart that comes to Him?”

The restless turning of the head ceased, an eager gaze, pitiful in its intensity, was still fixed on me.

“Sit down,” she said, “don’t go yet, it’s all dark with me. I want rest, I am dying, and I don’t know what’s to come after, and they’ve given me nothing to rest upon.”

“Are you so ill?” I asked, “is the pain great?”

“Aye, the pain is bad enough, but I’m no thinking of that, it’s my soul I’m troubled about. I’m a sinner, and I’m dying, and I canna’ meet the Almighty, and I’ve no time to do anything now.”

Opening my little Bible, I read, “‘This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.’ Will that do to rest upon?”

“You do not know what a sinner I have been. I’ve lived a long life, and forgotten God all through, though I aye meant to do better, and now afeared to meet Him. Those words canna’ be for sinners like me. Who says them?”

“God says them in His own Word, by the pen of the apostle Paul, and hear what else He says by the apostle John, ‘The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin,’ and when God told the apostle to write that word ‘all,’ He meant all. Not one sin of any sinner was unknown to Him, or forgotten by Him.”

“Eh, if I could but be sure, if I could but trust to it, but there must be works to be done, to get the pardon.... and penance.... I can do nothing, I’ve no time and no strength.”

“Then you are just the very one that Christ came for, for the Lord Jesus must do all the work Himself. He will not do part, and let you make up the rest. Listen again to what God says in Romans 5:6. ‘For when we were yet without strength, Christ died for the ungodly,’ and again (vs. 8), ‘But God commendeth his love toward us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.’ Is not that your case exactly, without strength, ungodly, a sinner?”

“Aye, that’s me exactly, for sure. Eh, if I could but feel certain, but God hates sin, I know that.”

“Yes, He hates sin, but He loves the sinner, and what He proposes to do is to put his or her sins all away, so that He can have the sinner in His presence, and show His love to him or her. Hear the words of the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, when He was on earth: ― ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life.’ Now you are in the world that He so loved, and ‘whosoever’ means everybody, so that must take in you. Then the question is, Do you believe Him? Can you trust His work alone, without any of yours? I must leave you now, but I will turn down the leaves in this Testament, that you may find the places easily, and read the words for yourself.”

“I am no scholar, I canna’ read a word. Eh, must you go? If I could but get rest.”

“I will read the verses once more for you,” I said, and turning to the patient, who occupied the only other bed in the ward, and who was pretty well, and up, I asked if she would read them to her afterward.

“I’ll do anything that I can if it will give her a morsel of comfort, poor body,” she answered in a kindly way, “for she’s sore putten about.”

I read once more slowly and distinctly the precious words, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,” and added, “He did what He came to do, for the apostle John says, ‘The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.’ Then we learn that He wants no doing of ours, ‘For when we were yet without strength,’ that is, could do nothing, ‘Christ died for the ungodly,’ and though God does hate sin, yet He loves the sinner, ‘For God commendeth his love towards us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us,’ and ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life.’”

“It’s all new to me,” she said, “oh, if I could but take it all in and find rest. Can you stay to read the words once again?”

The deepening twilight made it impossible to see to read any more, but I repeated the well-known words this time from memory, with the earnest hope that the Lord Himself would print them on her heart, and then I said Good-bye, promising to return on the day but one following.

Next time I went I found her eagerly watching for me. “You are late,” she said; “I was afraid you had forgotten.”

“Only five minutes late; I was stopped on the stairs by a patient going out. Have you any good news for me?”

“No. I canna’ see light through it. I have aye heard that we must have works, and I hae none, and how can I rest, and my time I know is so short?”

A terribly distressing cough almost choked her at each word or two, but she wanted no sympathy for her bodily illness. I never saw any one so entirely indifferent to bodily suffering, because so absorbed by concern about her soul.

“Do you believe this Bible is God’s Word?” I asked.

“I do that,” she said, “Then hear what God says in the Epistle to the Romans (4:5), ‘To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.’”

“That is awfu’ strange. What can it mean? I never heard tell o’ the likes o’ that before.”

“It means that we could not save ourselves by our works, for our works, done by sinful men and women, must be like ourselves, sinful too, ― ‘filthy rags’ God calls them. But when we could not save ourselves, the Lord Jesus came and did a work that could save us. He took our place, bore our punishment, hung on the cross, and was there forsaken of God because He had our sin upon Him. He offered Himself to God, the sinless one instead of the sinful, and God accepted the offering, and you and I can be accepted because of the perfection of that offering. God can be just now, and yet the justifier of him who believeth in Jesus. He can not only pardon, but justify us, ―that is, make us as clean as though we had never sinned. A righteous God must punish sin, but the Lord Jesus became our Substitute, ―that is, He took the sin on Himself, and He took the punishment due to it, so it is His work that must save you, not your works. As I read to you on Monday, the blood of Jesus Christ his (God’s) Son cleanseth us from all sin.’ Will not the love of God and the work of Christ give you something, both solid and restful, to pillow your weary troubled soul upon?”

A wistful look rested on me as I spoke a little longer to her. She was terribly weak and exhausted by the incessant cough, and I feared to stay too long with her, but ere I left I read once more to her the verses I had read on my last visit, with this added one, “To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.” As I rose to go, she said, “You’ll no be long in coming back; my time here is very short, I know.”

Three days after, as I entered her room, I did not need to ask the question, “Have you any good news for me?” Instead, I said, “You have good news today for me, I see it by your face.”

“Oh, such good news,” she said; “it was Thursday night, in the night. Bit by bit my neighbor had learned me the words, till I knew each one of those verses, and the light came in all sudden like. It was between night and morning, and I was saying to myself, for well-nigh on to the fiftieth time, ‘The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin,’ and a light seemed to shine right into my heart, and I said out aloud, ‘I believe You, Lord, then I am clean. Lord, I do thank You so much.’ I never slept, and I never felt any pain all the rest of the night. I know you’ll be so glad, I wanted you to come that I might tell you the load is all gone. My sins I mean, not one of my many, many sins forgotten, but all washed away by the blood of Jesus. This is rest. If only my gudeman knew it too. But I’ve gotten my neighbor to write and tell him all about it. He’ll understand it quicker than I did, for he is a scholar, and he was brought up different too. I’ll no see him again on earth, for he isna like to come so far to me. But I am glad I ever came here. I only thought of my body when I came, but God thought of my soul, and when He turned my thoughts to my soul I didna mind about the body, if I could only get rest for my mind.”

The words were spoken a few at a time, she stopping for breath in between each little sentence, but with such a glad ring in her feeble voice.

I never heard anything more of her history than that her husband lived more than a hundred miles away, and was old, that he had been a good husband to her, and was a “scholar,” and she seemed to feel quite confident that if only he heard what the Lord had done for her, he would trust Him too.

Before she rested her troubled soul on Christ and His finished work, she was too anxious to care for any other subject to be spoken about, and after she found out that Jesus had loved her, and died for her, long before she ever thought about Him, this subject was so sweet to her that she grudged my occupying a moment of the short times we had together, even by asking about her poor suffering body, therefore I never knew as little of the earthly history of any one I ever visited as of hers.

“Dinna mind the poor body,” she would say, “I shall soon have done with that, and I like to hear about my Saviour, and have bits to feed upon, ye ken, in the nights. Though; indeed, it’s good nights I’m getting the now, quiet bits of sleep on and off, but when I waken I aye likes to have something put by to think upon.”

Her need had brought her to the Saviour, and He fully met that need, and then during the short time she remained on earth, she learned something of the One who had met and blessed her, of how He had done far more than put away her sins and save her from hell. He had glorified God, had manifested Him perfectly, both as Light and Love, had swept away the foul stain of sin from before Him, and left Him free to follow the dictates of His own heart of love, and in perfect righteousness to be able to give the Father’s kiss, and the best robe, and the ring and the shoes, to the returning prodigal.

“Eh, but it’s grand. Eh, but it’s just wonderfu’, and I’ll be with Him soon, ―very soon. But it’s grand to learn a bit about Him before I go,” were some of her favorite comments on what was read to her.

Several of the Lord’s people saw her, and were struck with the simplicity of her faith in the all-sufficient work of the Lord Jesus, and her childlike attachment to Him.

The peace which now she enjoyed seemed to act on her body too. There were no more restless turnings and moanings at night, and frightened awakenings. The patient in the next bed told me that when she slept now, it was like the untroubled sleep of a child, and it was spoken of freely in the big ward, that some great change had come over her.

And thus quietly and peacefully the last and greatest change came, and He whom, not having seen, she had loved, though only for a few short weeks, Himself, one early autumn morning, put her to sleep for the last time on earth, to awaken in His own blessed presence, and with Him to await the moment for which the whole Church waits, when “them which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him.”

Reader, have you something to rest on, ―something that will satisfy God as well as satisfy you? As one beautifully expresses it, “The eyes of God and of the sinner meet on Jesus, and both are satisfied.”

“Jesus! I rest in Thee,

In Thee myself I hide;

Laden with gilt and misery,

Where can I rest beside?

‘Tis on Thy meek and lowly breast

My weary soul alone can rest.

Thou Holy One of God,

The Father rests in Thee;

And in the savor of that blood,

Which speaks to Him for me;

The curse is gone―through Thee I’m blest,

God rests in Thee―in Thee I rest.”

Between the Years.

A Call to the Careless.

IT is a season of great interest, alike to young and old, the closing hours of an old year, and the dawn of the new. The many drown the more serious thoughts suggested by the event, in mirth, and vanity, the dance, or the carouse; while those are not lacking who love to spend the time in prayer, experiencing the blessedness of waiting upon the Lord. High, in a large tenement of a northern city, above its din and bustle, sat a poor, lone widow. That house had seen better days, but in course of time, had been subdivided amongst a number of tenants, all the rooms opening upon a common passage. The widow’s attic was dismal enough, yet not devoid of a few comforts, saved from the wreck of former years. She had few friends, and little earthly hope to cheer her. Both sight and hearing were upon the wane, but her faith and hope were in her God. She sat alone that night, during the quiet hours of the fast-closing year, reading from the Epistles of St Paul, and gathering comfort from the words which speak of the believer’s blessed place “in Christ Jesus,” and the certainty of being forever with Himself.

No sound was to be heard but that of a piano played in a room below. Young skillful fingers touched the keys, and tune after tune followed each other in rapid succession.

But who was the player? Let us look downstairs and see. The room, whence the music came, formed in many respects a contrast to the attic above, being large, airy, and well furnished. At the instrument sat a young woman, of about twenty summers, with dark hair, and pale, but pleasant features. Music was her passion, her one employment, and as she remarked to the widow, as they met in the stair a few days before, “It is all my consolation.” Poor thing! She little thought as she uttered the words so gaily, that eternity for her was so near with all its great realities of weal or woe. Still less did she ponder the solemn words, spoken long ago by Him who is Truth, “What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” She was the only child of her parents, loved, indulged, and prized, but alas! she evinced no love for Jesus. His sweet name had no charm for her ears, and her heart and lips were never consecrated to sing His worthy praise.

That old year’s night she sat with her fingers nimbly passing over the keys of her piano, and at times singing merrily to the strain.

The sound reached the ears of the widow in her little room, and she thought―surely she is merry tonight. The city clocks pealed midnight, and from the distant street were heard the cheers of welcome to the advent of the New Year, as the passengers exchanged greetings. Then all was still again, save the piano notes. In a moment, they suddenly ceased, never to be heard again. The gay singer had ruptured a blood-vessel, and lay stretched upon the floor.

She never spoke again, only being able to give her stunned parents a parting look of recognition. All was consternation, and hurrying to and fro. The alarmed father rushed for a physician, but all too late. As the old year finished his course, and the new-born year dawned, the soul of the maiden-minstrel had passed from the bounds of time into the awful realities of a far-reaching eternity.

Let this brief, sad history, my reader, carry to you an earnest word of warning, yet of loving entreaty. You live for the world, of which God says, “the fashion of it passeth away,” and its “friendship” is “enmity against God.” You have a choice to make. Let it be for Christ. He is worthy of your choice. He suffered for sinners, “tasted death” for you. He is risen and glorified at God’s right hand in heaven, and the Scripture, which “cannot be broken,” declares that “whosoever believeth on him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” Will you have the Son? Do be persuaded; “He that hath the Son hath the life, but he that hath not the Son of God hath not the life.”

Satan, your enemy, uses a thousand things to hinder you from being saved―the fear of man, love of dress, a novel, a companion, music, dancing, education, pleasure, a form of godliness, and last, but not least, procrastination―if possible to keep you from deciding for Christ, and thus damn your soul for all eternity. Perhaps you say, “I am young, strong, full of hopes, the world lies smilingly before me, I have bright prospects of life for years to come; mar not my peace by your dark forebodings.” Or perhaps you seek to reassure yourself with the plea, “I intend to be a Christian before I die.” Ah, you trust the devil’s “tomorrow,” instead of God’s “today.” Be warned, I implore you, by the above sad history of one cut off in the full bloom of youth by that same “destroyer,” who may grasp you when you think not. T. R. D.

Who Next?

SAD news has just reached the town. A young man has been drowned. The choir of —Church went down the loch in a steamer for an excursion, and Mr. —went bathing with some companions, when suddenly he threw up his arms and sank. The others tried to save him, but it was too late. He was a fine promising young fellow, the chief support of his poor, widowed mother, and her only son. He was only twenty-two, and now he is DEAD!

That same night a man going along the street, dreadfully drunk, fell down, cutting himself severely and had to be carried to his wretched home. The next morning found him in a kneeling posture at his bedside―DEAD!

A woman had not long finished her dinner that same day, when her head fell suddenly back. She was DEAD!

The next morning a man who had been ill for some time with consumption, leaned heavily upon his wife’s arm. He was DEAD! “It comes home to me,” said the woman who told us, “he lived only a few doors off, and my husband died last year of the same complaint.”

Looking from the window of our lodging across the river a few days later, we saw the last honors being paid by the friends of the young man who had been drowned. Having recently joined the volunteers, his body was borne to its last resting-place on earth, accompanied with military pomp, and the beat of the muffled drum.

A few minutes later and another funeral met our gaze.

The same week the whole town was in excitement over a grand military review. Thousands flocked in from the country round. The streets were gay with bunting and flags, &c. All had passed off well, and men were congratulating each other on the success of the day, when suddenly the decorations are hastily hurried down from the front of a club in the main street. What’s the matter? Men with subdued look and tones talk together; the sad news soon spread. An officer who had been prominent in preparing for the festivities of the day died after a few hours’ illness. DEAD, DEAD!

Four or five days elapsed, and again a military funeral passes slowly by. A long train of soldiers, sailors, and citizens accompany the corpse, the coffin being borne upon a gun-carriage in the midst, covered with the Union Jack. The band plays the dead march, and the bagpipes follow with a solemn dirge. Soon the sound of a volley of firearms in the distance tells that all is over here.

Death, death, DEATH, DEATH. The wages of sin is DEATH. And after this (mark it well)―after this the judgment. “God speaketh once, yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not” (Job 33:14). Oh! that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end. “Because there is wrath, beware lest he take thee away with his stroke: then a great ransom cannot deliver thee” (Job 36:18).

How many of the above had anticipated so sudden a departure? How many were prepared to meet God? Dear reader, are you? If you were thus suddenly summoned into eternity, are you ready? There is no salvation beyond the grave, ―after death, the judgment. Now is the day of salvation; before tomorrow you may be forever beyond the reach of grace. Death is all around us; constantly we are reminded of its presence; thousands, day by day, are called to obey its solemn summons in different parts of the world, and yet, alas, how many shut their eyes to the dread reality, and live as if there was no such thing for them. Sinner, wake up from your fatal slumber, ere it be too late. This very day, for ought you know, the summons may come for you. Think of your awful destiny if you die unsaved―the lake of fire―God has said it―forever and forever (Rev. 20:15).

Oh, think then of the wondrous love of God in that inestimable gift, and of the love of that precious Saviour in dying on the tree. Forsaken of His loved ones, and then forsaken of God as the holy Sin-bearer on the cross, think, oh, think of the awful agonies of the Blessed Son of God in those terrible hours of darkness. Think, oh, think of the depths of anguish of that holy soul, that wrung from His blessed lips that piercing bitter cry, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

And think, too, dear reader, this was all for sinners such as you. Yes, the Son of the Blessed died on Calvary to save poor sinners―guilty, ruined, lost—from an endless hell, and for everlasting glory with Himself. God raised Him from the dead, a precious Saviour for all who trust in Him. Will you? “Whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). Never will you have a better opportunity; maybe you will never have another, to accept Christ. Without Him, whatever your moral character, you are lost; believe on Him, and your sins are forgiven, and you are saved.

E. H. C.

Thomas Bilney, A.D. 1530.

THERE was in Trinity College, Cambridge, a young doctor, much given to the study of the canon law, of serious turn of mind, and of bashful disposition, and whose tender conscience strove, although ineffectually, to fulfill the commandments of God. Anxious about his salvation, Thomas Bilney applied to the priests, whom he looked upon as physicians of the soul. Kneeling before his confessor, with humble look and pale face, he told him all his sins, and even those of which he doubted. The priest prescribed at one time, fasting; at another, prolonged vigils; and then, masses and indulgences, which cost him dearly. The poor doctor went through all these practices with great devotion, but found no consolation in them. Being weak and slender, his body wasted away by degrees, his understanding grew weaker, his imagination faded, and his purse became empty.

“Alas,” said he with anguish, “my last state is worse than the first.”

From time to time an idea crossed his mind, “May not the priests be seeking their own interests and not the salvation of my soul.” But, immediately rejecting the rash doubt, he fell back under the iron hand of the clergy.

One day Bilney heard his friends talking about a new book; it was the Greek Testament, printed with a translation, which was highly praised for its Latinity. Attracted by the beauty of the style, rather than by the divinity of the subject, he stretched out his hand; but, just as he was going to take the volume, fear came upon him and he withdrew it hastily.... Was it not the Testament of Jesus Christ? Might not God have placed therein some word which perhaps might heal his soul.... At last he took courage, urged by the hand of God,... he slipped into the house where the volume was sold in secret, bought it with fear and trembling, and then hastened back and shut himself up in his room.

He opened it―his eyes caught these words: ― “This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am, chief.” He laid down the book, and meditated on the astonishing declaration. “What! St Paul, the chief of sinners, and yet St Paul is sure of being saved!” He read the verse again and again. “O assertion of St Paul, how sweet thou art to my soul!” he exclaimed. This declaration continually haunted him; and, in this manner, God instructed him in the secret of his heart. He could not tell what had happened to him: it seemed as if a refreshing wind were blowing over his soul, or as if a rich treasure had been placed in his hands. The Holy Spirit took what was Christ’s, and announced it to him. “I also am like Paul,” he cried, with emotion; “and, more than Paul, the greatest of sinners; but Christ saves sinners. At last I have heard of Jesus.” His doubts were ended―he was saved!

“I see it all,” said Bilney; “my vigils, my fasts, my pilgrimages, my purchase of masses and indulgences, were destroying instead of saving me.” All these efforts were a running out of the right way!

Bilney never grew tired of reading his New Testament.... A witness to Jesus Christ had been born by the same power that had transformed Paul, Apollos, and Timothy. M. D.

Bread Cast Upon the Waters.

THE shades of winter evening were rapidly deepening, and flinging obscurity over the subjects which lay upon the tables of a well-known London dissecting-room, a quarter of a century ago, as a group of medical students might have been seen standing round one of these tables, evidently, for the moment, deeply engaged. The fading light, shut books, closed dissecting cases, and somewhat grave faces of the dozen listeners showed that anatomy was not the topic in hand, as a seated student, who had till then been busy with his part, replied to the queries that came from every quarter of the group.

The conversation had been begun by S―, a typically thoughtless and careless young would-be medico, who, in passing the seated dissector―known to be a Christian―had railingly said, “Well, Spurgeon, how many have you baptized lately?” Medical students are notorious for their love of bestowing a sobriquet on all and sundry, from professors downwards; so the student thus addressed had, soon after he joined the college, and it leaked out that he occasionally preached the gospel, been dubbed with the name of the well-known and popular preacher.

“I do not baptize; I only preach the gospel, when, and as best I can,” was the rejoinder.

“Oh, you don’t baptize, you only preach. “Come, tell us what you say;” and the loud tone of banter in which this was said quickly gathered, as it was intended it should, a little coterie of kindred spirits, expecting some fun from the roasting of the young Christian. At that moment, however, the senior demonstrator of anatomy, a grave, demure man of whom the students stood rather in awe, joined the group, and took part in the conversation later on.

“You want to know what I preach, do you? I preach glad tidings; the love of God to ruined man, the death and resurrection of His Son the Lord Jesus, and that faith in Him alone secures salvation; that man is guilty, undone, lost, and that the ‘Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost.’ Human efforts are all in vain. Man’s so-called good works are all valueless to win salvation. ‘Salvation is of the Lord,’ and ‘the salvation of God is sent to the Gentiles;’ whosoever will may have it, without money or price. The gift of God is eternal life, through Jesus Christ our Lord.’ The last time I preached I spoke on the 10th of Acts, where it says about the Saviour, To him give all the prophets witness, that through his name whosoever believeth in him shall receive remission of sins.”

“And do you mean to say that your sins are all forgiven, and that you are saved, Spurgeon?” continued his first interrogator.

“Through God’s grace I can most certainly say so. I have had that joy for more than a year now.”

“Well, that is presumption, and no mistake,” “Did you ever hear the like?” “That’s rather too good to believe,” put in a chorus of voices at once.

Nothing daunted, the assailed one replied, “How can it be presumption to believe God? If my salvation depended on my good works I might well be filled with doubt and uncertainty, but if it depend, as it does, on the perfectly finished and accepted work of the Lord Jesus for me, it would be presumption to doubt that salvation, when God says so plainly in His Word to every believing soul, ‘Thy sins are forgiven. Thy faith hath saved thee. Go in peace’ (Luke 7). When an awakened sinner once asked, ‘What must I do to be saved?’ God’s Spirit replied, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.’ And further, He has said in Ephesians 2. ‘By grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God; not of works, lest any man should boast.’ It surely cannot be presumption to believe the God of truth, when He says He sent His Son to save me, and that when I trust in Him I am saved.”

“But you do not give sufficient place to our works,” put in the senior demonstrator, who had been listening quietly till now.

“If God gives them no place, sir, had we not better leave them out of consideration? It says in Romans 4, ‘If Abraham were justified by works, he hath whereof to glory; but not before God. But what saith the Scripture? Abraham believed God, and it was counted unto him for righteousness. Now to him that worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt. But to him that worketh not, but believeth in him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.’ Our works are either ‘wicked’ (Col. 1:21) or ‘dead’ (Heb. 9:14), and certainly they cannot save us. Christ’s work is finished, by it God has been glorified, and it is due to Christ that the one who forswears his own works, and trusts alone in Him, should partake of the benefits and fruits of that atoning work of His, by which alone can sin be put away.”

“Ah! that makes it far too easy,” said one; “Depend upon it, Spurgeon, you are all wrong,” said another; and with varying other such comments the gathering broke up, and the dissector was left alone to pack up his tools in quietness, wondering, the while, what God would bring out of the incident. The bread of life had been simply presented: whether any were hungry enough to eat thereof was a question. At any rate, the young believer found comfort to his heart in the words, “Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days” (Eccl. 11:1), and “So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth; it shall not return unto me void; but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it” (Isa. 55:11).

Two days later this young student was again busy with his scalpel and forceps, sitting alone at a table, when one of his seniors, named J―, brought his part, instruments, and book, and seated himself opposite to him, and began to dissect. Work went on quietly for a little, and then J― said, “That was strange stuff you were telling the fellows the other afternoon. I said nothing at the time, but I don’t believe what you were saying. I don’t at all pretend to be a religious chap myself, but I am sure a man would need to work hard to get to heaven. Your way of it would not be mine at all, if I cared for that sort of thing, which I don’t.”

“It is not my way, J―, it is God’s, and that makes an immense difference. When the Lord was upon earth, and the Jews came and asked Him, ‘What shall we do that we might work the works of God?’ do you know what He answered them?”

“No. What?”

“‘Jesus answered and said unto them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent’ (John 6:29). To believe in the Son of God is all that you or I have to do to get saved.”

“But, man, it stands to reason that we ought to do something ourselves. Why, by your way everybody may get saved. Do you believe they will?”

“No; I believe nothing of the sort, for alas, all will not take the place of being lost sinners, and hence do not feel their need of a Saviour, and so, do not trust Him. His words are true: ‘They that are whole need not a physician; but they that are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.’ The whole, the righteous―or those who think they are such―need Him not, but sinners are welcome to Him. As one of the latter I have received Him, and He has saved me out and out, blessed be His name!”

“Oh, that’s easily said, but I don’t believe in your way of salvation at all, and you will never convince me that that is the way to be saved;” and so saying J― relapsed into silence, shortly after left the table, and for the rest of their student life took uncommon good care not to give an opportunity for a tête-à-t̂ete with the man who knew Christ had saved him.

Some years rolled by; student days ceased, the ardently longed-for diplomas and degrees were possessed, and while J― went into practice in the far West, the other went north of the Tweed to extend his knowledge, while filling the post of house physician in a large hospital. To that same city, in course of time, who should come but J―, attracted, as he supposed, by certain medical advantages of which he would avail himself; but led doubtless by the gracious hand of God, who had not taken His eye off him since the day an arrow, shot at a venture, had pierced the worldly coat of mail he wore in the London dissecting-room. Great was J―’s surprise to find his former acquaintance chief in those wards where he wanted to gather clinical information. Flung thus across his path again, J―’s friend felt greatly interested in him, and one Lord’s Day said, “Do you ever go to hear the Word of God preached now?”

“Sometimes; but I have not been since I came north. Where do you go?”

“I? Oh! go to― Street.”

“Who preaches there?”

“The preachers are various.”

“Do they preach well?”

“That would be an open question. I believe they preach the truth, and that is what you and I want. You might do worse than come;” and so saying, a little notice of the meeting was handed to him, which he took, with the remark, “Perhaps I will turn in some night.”

That evening the preacher was reading the 7th of Luke, when the door gently opened, and the unbelieving, but evidently interested, young doctor entered. His surprise was not small to find in the preacher the one who had invited him; but the Lord’s sermon of twelve words: “THY SINS ARE FORGIVEN. THY FAITH HATH SAVED THEE. GO IN PEACE,” soon riveted him, and though he did not go “in peace,” he left impressed, and aroused to a sense of his need and danger, such as he had never experienced before.

The next Lord’s Day found the doctor again present, as an aged and gray-haired servant of God sweetly unfolded the touching parables of Luke 15, and showed how, when man was lost, Jesus came after him, when he was dead, how the Spirit quickened him, and when he returned repentant, how the Father welcomed and rejoiced over Him. Conviction of sin was now evident in the young physician, and two Lord’s Days later, when he again heard his medical friend preach from the words “Wilt thou go with this man?” he felt he must decide for Christ that night. He stayed to the second meeting for anxious inquirers; and then in converse with his friend, as they walked towards the hospital together, admitted that he had never been easy since the conversation in the dissecting-room. Persuaded in his mind that what he had heard was not true, he had gone home, searched the Bible for support, only to find that he was wrong himself, and that what he had heard was the truth. Convinced that he was wrong, and that God’s salvation was free to all, by simple faith in Jesus, he had balanced the blessings of the gospel against “the pleasures of sin for a season;” the devil had kicked the beam the wrong way, so he shut up the Bible, and turned again to the world with its sin and folly, but had never had an hour’s peace. Now he saw he was lost, and was asked, “Do you believe that Jesus came to save the lost?”

“I do, I believe He came to save me, and I believe in Him.” “Then are you not saved?”

“That is just the difficulty. I don’t feel sure.”

“Well,” said his friend, “if God is worth believing on two counts, why not on the third? When God says in His Word you are a lost sinner, what say you?” “I believe Him,” he replied.

“Good. And when He says He sent His Son to die for you, and that if you trust in Him you shall be saved―what do you say?”

“I believe him with all my heart.”

“Quite right. Now, then, when he says, ‘He that believeth on the Son Hath everlasting life’ (John 3:36), are you going to doubt Him?”

“That won’t do. If He speaks truly on the two counts, He must speak as truly on the third. Yes, I see it. I believe in His Son, and I have everlasting life. He says it, and it must be true. Thank God, I am saved, forgiven, without any works of my own―by simple faith in Jesus.”

“One question more: ‘Wilt thou go with this man?’” “I will go!” was the emphatic reply; and the doctor started for glory, and is yet on his road, sure of the end through grace.

Reader, have you started yet? If not, just start at once. W. T. P. W.

The Fatal Choice.

THE last rays of a summer’s sun were lingering still over the busy town of―, when one who knew the Lord in that place received an urgent message to attend the bedside of a dying woman.

“She is dying, and afraid to die,”, were words that admitted of no delay to any heart who knew the priceless value of one precious soul,―who knew, too, that it possessed a secret which could change the fear of death into a song of triumph, even the knowledge of Jesus, who by His death and resurrection has robbed death of its sting, the grave of its victory, and made its dreary portals only the gateway into joy unspeakable for each soul who knows Him.

With a longing heart to speak of Jesus to a needy sinner, His servant’s footsteps turned hastily, yet prayerfully, towards the part of the town indicated, taking the messenger, a young woman, as guide.

After winding through many a narrow street, the guide stopped before a dingy dwelling, one of a long row of similar-looking ones, and said: “You will find Mrs.― in the right-hand room of the third story. You can knock, and go right in, for she will be expecting you.”

The house was one let out in single rooms, and crowded with inmates, ―a house where poverty and wretchedness, and sin, and haggard forms, and faces with deep lines of care in them, abounded, ―a house into which you longed to bring Christ for comfort now, as well as for eternal salvation. Your heart ached at the sights and sounds around you, as you murmured in His ear, “And for such, for such, Thou didst die!”

In the room pointed out―the right-hand room of the third story―a young woman was lying on a poor low bed, apparently dying, also in great concern as to her soul, and as to the hereafter about which she had only very dim misty ideas, to enter which seemed to her like “taking a leap in the dark,” and this leap she feared to take.

On entering the dying woman’s room, the deplorableness of it struck you. There were but few things in it, and these of the poorest description. Two little children were playing on the floor with the lid of an old box, and a tiny baby, a sickly weakly-looking infant, was lying on the bed by the side of its mother, uttering those piteous wailing sounds that move the very heart of the listener, however hardened, when it seems as though the poor little suffering one had not health or strength enough even to cry, only power to suffer.

In the mother, however, even deeper interest was centered; for the message, though brief, had conveyed this clearly enough, that she was dying without Christ. Sitting by her bedside, the visitor, whom she welcomed eagerly, read to her from God’s own Word how Jesus came, and bled, and died, to save just such as she. She listened, she asked for prayer, and earnest prayer went up for her that she might learn to trust Jesus.

Jesus and His love, however, seemed to have no power over her heart. She was afraid to die, ―terribly afraid to die. She wanted to be assured she would not go to hell, that was all. About this she was anxious. One or two neighbors were in the room, her husband being away at his work, and these gathered round the bed to listen, as once more God’s offer of salvation that moment, through Christ and His finished work, was presented to her. His willingness to save, His desire to have her, were pressed upon her. She was moved, almost she was persuaded.

Again she was besought not to put oil accepting Jesus and His offered mercy, but to give Him the joy, and herself the blessing, of letting Him save her that night; but beyond the “almost persuaded” she did not get. She wept, she seemed in earnest, she did everything but accept Christ; and, promising to return the following morning, her friend at last left her, asking the Lord on the homeward way to show what it was that hindered that soul, apparently anxious, apparently so near eternity, from closing with the offer of the Saviour.

Again, the next morning and the next evening, was God’s Word read to her, with the same results, ―almost persuaded, never quite decided. Jesus was a Saviour to her, but not her Saviour. Sometimes the deciding point came so near, there seemed but a hair’s-breadth between her and eternal life. Still she lingered on the shores of death, and deep anxiety and sorrow filled the heart of the one visiting her, which sorrow was only to be deepened.

Days passed on, and she hovered between death and life, naturally and spiritually. Her interest in the Word of God, her desire for prayer, continued unabated; yet it seemed as though she would put off till the last moment her decision for Christ. Her anxiety for safety seemed great, and the City of Refuge was just before her; still she loitered on the road, within reach of safety, but not safe.

Presently there came a change. She rallied, as to her bodily health; and as her strength increased, her interest in the things of the Lord decreased.

A day or two more, and hopes were entertained of her recovery, and then the evening visits―once so eagerly looked for―were evidently no longer welcome; for she was up in the evening for a short time, and neighbors came in.

With the thought of a prolonged earthly life, desire for eternal life seemed to disappear. It was only for death she wanted Christ. She was afraid to die without Him; but if she were to live, she would rather live without Him. She had only been half-persuaded to become a Christian.

Oh, how the devil laughs at “almost persuaded” souls! He likes to see them almost persuaded, ―it kills their consciences, they rest there so often, and never take the half-step farther that lands them at the feet of Jesus. “Almost persuaded” suits his purposes exactly. They have not got Christ, and he does not care what else they get.

Satan knows well their folly, though they do not; for be has tasted heaven once himself; he knows its blessedness, its joys; he knows, too, what it is to lose it, to be an outcast from God; though he never knew our supreme joy, who believe, of being there, because Jesus Himself so loved us, that He died to have us by His side forever.

About a fortnight after the visit to Mrs.―, there seemed every prospect of her speedy recovery; and then, though grateful to the one who visited her, for kindness shown to her, it was quite apparent there was no longer real concern about the soul. The subject once so welcomed by her was now irksome.

One bright summer’s morning, unwilling to give her up, longing with intense desire for her soul, and yet with a deep feeling of solemnity, her friend entered her room. She was up that morning, for the first time so early, and full of the joy of recovering health again, but with no note of praise to the Lord.

Several neighbors were in the room, young women like herself, and there was evidently some object of great interest being discussed. It soon came out what the subject was. A fair was to be held, at a short distance, in a week’s time, and Mrs. — was full of the thought of going, her friends persuading her she would be quite well enough by then.

Greatly distressed, her visitor listened, and then solemnly, earnestly, put this question to her: “Would you give up Christ for a fair?”

“But I am getting well now. I am not dying now,” she answered; “and I do mean to be a Christian someday.”

It was the world had shut out Christ. You would not have thought her world was much, could you have seen that poor dark room, those little half-clothed children, the poverty and wretchedness of everything. But it was a big enough world, even that, to close her heart against the Saviour, to shut Him out. And you, who wonder at her, weigh for one moment your world in the scales, of eternity, tend say, are you taking a wiser choice? Are you taking anything, everything, this world can give, instead of Jesus, and life eternal in Him? Then your choice is like hers―a fatal one.

She chose to give up Christ for “the fair next week,” and Satan cheated her even of the poor paltry joy he offered her.

Solemnly, as though on the very verge of eternity, with this as her last opportunity, was she warned not to risk her eternal salvation for so poor a thing, ―for this had plainly been the whole reason of her indecision. She had hoped to get well, and go to the fair, and so she wanted to wait, and put off being a Christian.

It was no new wile of Satan’s; he has tried the same with thousands, saying, “Be a Christian, of course, some day, but not today, ―do this first.”

With a sad heart her friend was leaving, but turned back to leave these two scriptures with her: “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation;” and, “Be not deceived; God is not mocked.” For a moment once more she wavered; but a neighbor’s laugh prevailed. Her decision was fixed. “I will think of these things another time, but not today.”

Turning to the women standing round, her friend said: “God grant you may never have to feel you helped a soul on to everlasting ruin!”

A laugh rang out as the door closed; it sounded like the mocking laugh of Satan.

It was about eleven in the morning when this visit was paid. Between three and four o’clock in the afternoon of the same day, the visitor was returning home, still thinking of Mrs.―, feeling even no power to pray for her, and yet quite unable to think of almost anything else, when a voice said, suddenly, “Have you seen Mrs.― today?”

It was the doctor who had been attending her who spoke, and his manner was very grave.

“Yes, doctor,” was the answer. “I suppose she is getting quite well now.”

“She is dying!” was his reply.

“Dying! Oh, surely that is not possible, she seemed so well this morning.”

The doctor was a man of few words. His only explanation was: “Inflammation, acute. She may not last an hour.” And he was hurrying on, but turned back to say: “Probably she will not be conscious; but if you can be of any good to her, you had better go at once.”

It needed no second bidding. Hurriedly, tremblingly, that well-known door was reached, “the right-hand door of the third story.” On entering, what a sight met the eye! Mrs.― was lying on the same bed on which she had so often listened to the Word of God, but how changed now! Her eyes looked painfully strained, her hands were tearing at her chest as though she would tear something out, and the only words she uttered were: “On fire already. ‘God is not mocked.’ Too late! too late!” It was an awful scene! The same young women who were there in the morning stood by now, as though paralyzed.

Her friend knelt to pray that even now, at the eleventh hour, she might look to Jesus, and be saved. The words of prayer were interrupted by a half-struggle, half-shriek, so unearthly as to be appalling. Her face was the picture of despair, and agony, and wild affright. And with the terrible words, “Too late! too late” once more on her lips, and one last awful struggle, she passed away.

The silence of death fell on that little company. The women cowered together, awe-stricken and trembling, and for a time no one went forward to close the eyes of the dead, That last “Too late!” from those dying lips, had seemed like a voice from another world.

Only a few short hours before, those lips, now cold and motionless on earth forever, had said she “would think of these things another day, not today;” and he, who “had the power of death, that is, the devil,” had taken care that, for her, that other day should never come.

It was a moment of never-to-be-forgotten solemnity. For a time the silence was unbroken even by a movement; and then, in the presence of the dead―terrible witness of the danger, the awful folly, of delay―once more Jesus, and His present salvation, were pressed on those who had witnessed that dying scene, and that this moment, this only, belonged to them.

She, like they, had intended to be a Christian someday, and never meant to die unsaved, only to live a little longer without Christ. She had even seemed to start on her road to Him.

The women were deeply impressed; and as once more words of prayer went up for them, deep sobs came from many. I believe that death-bed bore fruit of life, which the coming day will make manifest.

Dear reader, if you are unconverted still, ―that is, if you do not know what it is to belong to Jesus, ―may this sad story live in your memory as each sorrowful detail lives in mine, and give you no rest till your choice for eternity be made. And may that choice be like the choice of one of old, of whom the Lord could say, “She hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her!” For what was that choice? To be close to Jesus for time, listening to Him, worshipping Him, and by His side for all eternity!

An Acrostic.

E TERNITY! how solemn! yet ‘tis true

T hat unbelief Hath endless ill in view:

E ach hour deriving terror from the last;

R ecurring torment, ne’er completely past;

N o heart to cheer, no hand to bring relief,

I ncessant agony, undying grief;

T he woe unspeakable; sheer blank despair,

Y ea, not one mitigating solace there!

E TERNAL LIFE! —no less, the Saviour gives

T o him who in His peerless name believes;

E ntire remission, present, perfect peace,

R ich promise of incomparable bliss;[Son―

N ew joys, bright glories, shared with God’s own

A biding proofs of triumphs rightly won,

L oved like Himself, and lifted to His throne.

L et none exclaim, These joys are not for me!”

I n Christ believe; He died for such as thee.

F ear not to take Life’s waters; quench thy thirst;

E ternal life awaits the least and worst.

C. E. P.

"The Blood of Jesus Christ His Son Cleanseth Us from All Sin."

MY dear Miss F― what would I not give if you could see that text as I do!”

“It is no use, Miss S—; I never can, and I never shall.”

The text alluded to was beautifully printed on white satin, and suspended near the dining-room door, so that any one leaving the room could scarcely avoid reading it.

Miss F― was a governess, and had recently obtained an engagement in the school kept by Miss S—. By an unusual oversight she had not been asked one single question as to her religious opinions, and so found herself, although a Unitarian, and denying the divinity of the Lord Jesus Christ, in the house of a real Christian, whose life and conversation were a bright testimony to all around, and above all to each pupil in her school.

Poor Miss F― soon felt very much like a thief that had gone into the house unawares. Still, there was something sweet and bright about the place, and she did not wish to leave; and as the days passed on she became attached to the different members of the household, and though her conscience became more uneasy, her desire to remain increased.

At last an opportunity occurred to disclose the fact of her Unitarianism. A celebrated minister of that sect had recently lost his wife, and as she was a gifted writer, her death was the subject of an article in one of the papers, and this led to the following conversation: ―

“Did you know her, Miss F―? she resided in your neighborhood,” asked Miss S ―.

“Yes, we went to their chapel, and my brother’s children were christened by her husband,” replied Miss F―, with a heart beating rapidly, for now, thought she, I shall have to go tomorrow for certain!

“My dear, was your brother a Unitarian?”

“Yes, Miss S―.”

“But you, my dear, were never influenced by his opinions, I hope?”

“Yes, Miss S―, we are all Unitarians.”

If the roof had fallen in Miss. S― would not have been more startled. She literally could not speak in her amazement, and took an early opportunity of dismissing the only other occupant of the room; and when they both were left alone, she said, “My dear Miss F―, did I not ask you about your religious opinions before I engaged you as governess?”

“No, Miss S―, you did not, or I should have told you; and as I had no objection to going to church, I thought you were not more particular than myself.”

“That was a great mistake, my dear; but I must wait until morning before I decide anything.”

That night was a trying one for poor Miss F―, already much attached both to the Principal and the pupils. She knew that in all probability she would be obliged to leave the next day. And not only that, but she felt, on retiring to her own room, that in the room just under her feet Miss S― was pouring out her heart to the Lord in prayer and supplication for her. The very boards seemed to open and let the prayers through, so powerfully did she feel the prayers. No one had ever prayed for her before; it was a new experience.

Morning came at last, and after breakfast Miss S― requested her governess to remain with her a few moments, and then told her that after laying the case before the Lord, she thought that as she had come into the house as governess, without questions being asked (a circumstance that had never happened before), it might be that the Lord had sent her for blessing, and it would not be right to send her away― not at present, at all events. “But,” said Miss S―, “I shall require your promise not to influence my pupils in any way.”

Miss F― was glad to give the required promise, as she already felt that there was something happier about the teaching of Miss S—than her own Unitarian opinions; and although she thought that the teaching of Miss S― was all founded on a mistake, she made up her mind not to trouble about it.

Already a month had passed, and all went on happily, when one evening as they were going out of the dining-room Miss F― glanced at the text above alluded to, and this being observed by Miss S―, it brought out the remarks at the commencement of this narrative― “I never can, and I never shall!”

Was not this like setting man’s will against God’s power? The only response of Miss S—at the time was a profound sigh.

Time went on, Miss S——regularly teaching the children God’s way of salvation, without personally speaking much to Miss F―, who listened, thought it sounded very sweet, but took no more notice, until just nine months after her first arrival, when, passing out of the dining-room as usual, she once more glanced at the text, “The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.” Something seemed different, and she stood still whilst once more Miss S― used exactly the same words, “My dear Miss F―, what would I not give if you could see that text as I do!”

“Miss S―, I do!” was the glad cry that almost burst from her governess, as she continued to gaze at the words.

How different they looked, thought she! So they did. A light had shone from it into the heart of the looker on, and there was “joy in the presence of the angels of God” that night. So full of the newly found joy and blessing was Miss F―, that she wondered everyone did not notice her happiness.

Letters were written to each dear relative begging them to turn from their dead doctrine tic the life-giving Saviour, so ready to receive all who come, to Him. Whosoever will may come! Reader, will you?

It is now nearly twenty years since that text first shone with saving power before the eyes of that governess, filling her with joy and peace unspeakable; but the word of the Lord abides forever.

And this His word still avails for every one yet in darkness as to the value of that blood, which indeed cleanseth from all sin, however black.

It was shed for the remission of sins; and we have all sinned, and our conscience tells us so. But through faith in Christ, whose blood was shed on our behalf―for He died the just for the unjust―we have our consciences cleansed from our sins, and we no longer have an “evil conscience” about them; for we know and believe that His blood has atoned for them all, and put them away from before God,―we purify our souls in obeying the truth, and we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, who was delivered for our offenses, and raised again for our justification.

“It is not thy tears of repentance or prayers,

But the blood that atones for the soul;

On Him then believe, and a pardon receive,

Not in part but, indeed, of the whole.

Oh! take with rejoicing from Jesus at once

The life everlasting He gives;

And know with assurance thou never canst die,

Since Jesus thy righteousness lives.”

The Phoenix Park Murder.

RECENTLY when walking down Phoenix Park, Dublin, a woman, selling apples from a basket, opposite the Viceregal Lodge, pointed out to me a round hole in the grass, at the roadside, as being the exact spot where the body of Lord Frederick Cavendish lay just after he was murdered. I said to this woman, ―

“If your body had lain there dead instead of Lord Cavendish’s, where would your soul now have been?”

“Your honor,” said she, “you have given me a very hard question to answer; but I hope to get to heaven at last.”

“Do you side with Lord Cavendish or with his murderers?”

“Oh, sir,” she said, “it was very kind of that noble lord to come from England to help us, and it was very wicked of those cruel murderers to kill him.”

“Then you sided with Lord Frederick?”

“Yes, sir, most certainly I did.”

“My good woman,” I added, “this very much reminds me of the Lord, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who in such love and compassion came from heaven to do this poor world good, and of what this wicked world did to Him. Let me also ask, Do you side with the Lord Jesus Christ, or with the world that murdered Him, and still rejects Him?”

“Oh, sir, it was very good of that Saviour to come and do what He did, and it was very wrong indeed for Him to be treated so badly.”

“But you have not answered my question about the Son of God as you did about Lord Frederick. Have you, then, as a needy and helpless sinner, accepted that blessed Saviour as your substitute, trusted His finished work, and taken shelter under His precious blood, who came ‘to seek and to save that which wits lost’?”

Alas! alas! from the indifferent manner of this poor woman, she was evidently more interested about her apples than in the Saviour. Just like those Gadarenes of old, who preferred their swine to the Lord Jesus, who had come to their country, through the storms of Galilee’s lake, to cast a legion of demons out of the poor demoniac bound in Satan’s chains, and to set him free to love and serve his Deliverer.

I had, therefore, to pass on with another unsatisfactory evasion of the all-important question, the salvation of the never-dying soul. But this is by no means a solitary exception to the sad, sad rule of preferring the fleeting things of time and sense to the soul’s eternal welfare! Is our reader, I wonder, an exception to that rule? Think about it solemnly, friend, and give the answer to God, who is light as well as love, and who knows your heart. “As it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment; so Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many: and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time, without sin unto salvation” (Heb. 9:27-28). What are you, dear soul, looking for? is it for Jesus and glory, or for judgment and hell?

A few weeks later I was walking through the grounds of Bolton Abbey, Yorkshire, where the Duke of Devonshire has a seat, and where a monument is erected to the memory of his son Lord Frederick Charles Cavendish.

I noticed on this monument the following striking inscription: ―

“Full of love to that country,

Full of hope for her future,

Full of capacity to render her service,

Murdered in Phoenix Park, Dublin, within twelve hours of his arrival,” &c.

Reader, I would not for one moment seek to undervalue what Lord Frederick Cavendish, as Chief-Secretary, possessed for Ireland, nor do I desire to discuss how much his murderers should be deprecated, for that is no part of our theme; but when reading those three first lines of the inscription, most forcibly it struck me how infinitely more applicable, in the higher sense, they were to the blessed Lord Jesus Christ, God’s Son, who in such love and grace for guilty sinners came so far to this world, and suffered so much at their bands. Yes, of Him, and Him alone, can we truly say: ―

Full of love to lost sinners,

Full of hope for their future,

Full of capacity to render them service.

“Who suffered for sins once, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God.”

So FULL OF LOVE unfathomable, love divine, that He, “being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God; but made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is LORD, to the glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:6-12).

Friend, receive of that fullness of love, and be enabled to say of Him, as the apostle Paul said, He “loved me, and gave himself for me.” Then go and tell it to others.

SO FULL OF HOPE was He, that it is written of Him, “He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied” (Isa. 53:11); and “who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2).

Reader, have you accepted the benefits wrought out on that cross, and can you “rejoice in hope of the glory of God?” and will you contribute to the fullness of that blessed Christ of God, by receiving Him as your present Saviour and eternal satisfier, to be with Him forever, to the full joy of His heart, and of yours, when faith and hope will have ceased?

So FULL OF CAPACITY was the Lord Jesus, that He alone was able to meet the just claims of a holy God, deliver lost sinners from hell, put away their sins by His unspeakably precious blood, bring them nigh to God, give them peace and joy and eternal life, go and prepare a place for those who accept Him now by simple faith, and come again to take His Church, for which He bled and died, ere long to be forever with Himself in co-heirship, companionship, and glory.

Reader of these lines, let me ask, When do you mean to become a privileged recipient of the fruit of His wonderful divine love, hope, and capacity, which is still held out for your acceptance in this day of His grace and long-suffering mercy? Do be once more warned not to allow the last opportunity to escape.

If you do, you will in judgment assuredly find yourself where escape, love, and hope never enter. You will discover then, to your eternal remorse and shame, what absolute power that blessed Son of God has to maintain His holiness upon all who now refuse such manifested love, hope, and capacity.

I beseech you, therefore, leave the murderers’ ranks! “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved,” and be “filled into all the fullness of God,” for His peerless name’s sake.

Amen. J. N.

The World's Spelling Bee.

I WAS meditating to myself the other day, and my thoughts resolved themselves into something like the following.

The world may be likened to a huge universal spelling-bee.

If we come to analyze man, we find he is occupied in spelling, in his everyday actions, one word. It forms his sole engrossing occupation. That one word is I. How few are willing to give their time or money, without it being known in the town to which they belong. Dear reader, if you challenge all your actions in your everyday life, you will be astonished to find how things you even took credit for are all centered in self.

If you turn to God’s precious Word, you will find in Luke 12:16-21 a picture of a man whose sole thoughts were about himself, to the exclusion of everyone else, even of the God who had created him, and given him all that he had. He was a hard-headed prosperous farmer, who left God out of his reckoning altogether. His whole life, strength, and energy were spent for himself, his own gain, and his own pleasure.

My friend, are you like that one? for if so, I would just quote God’s own Word to show you what the end of these things are. You will find the account of the rich farmer in Luke 12:16-21, in the following words: ― “And he [Jesus] spake a parable unto them, saying, The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully: and he thought within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits? And he said, This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. BUT GOD SAID UNTO HIM, THOU FOOL, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be which thou hast provided? So is he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.”

But you may say, Although I do work for myself, I strive also to be rich towards God. I give a tenth of my income away to the poor; I go to church or chapel regularly; I read my Bible; I pray; I strictly observe all the religious ordinances.

My friend, you will find the Pharisee in Luke 18:10-12 did more than you: ― “Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all I possess.”

But you find in verses 14, that the poor repentant publican went down to his house justified rather than the proud religious Pharisee.

My friend, whether you spell the religious or the irreligious I, you are on your way to hell, for God’s Word says, “Without shedding of blood is no remission” (Heb. 9:22). But, thanks be to God, it also says in 1 John 1:7, “The blood of Jesus Christ his [God’s] son cleanseth us from all sin.”

If you look up once more God’s Word, you will see the ceaseless occupation of the damned in hell. Look at Luke 16:24, “And he cried, and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame.”

What a terrible picture of thousands, who have slipped out of time, where the water of life is offered freely (John 7:38, 4:10), into eternity where not a single drop is to be had!

You might define man as that creature who pre-eminently looks after himself and his own interests; so you might say that the blessed Lord Jesus Christ was that One who pre-eminently looked after others, even to the laying down of his life for his enemies.

What a blessed contrast there is between poor selfish man, whether he spells the religious or the irreligious I, and the blessed Lord Jesus Christ, when we trace His self-denying love down here!

We find Him depicted in Luke 10:30-35 as the Good Samaritan. After the priest and the Levite had passed by the poor half-murdered man lying by the wayside, the Good Samaritan came where he was, went to him, bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, set him on his own beast, brought him to an inn, and took care of him, paid all his expenses, and promised to return. We find the same One in John 4:4, He must needs go through Samaria. He must needs―impelled by the love of His heart―walk under a hot Eastern sun, where a man cannot find his own shadow, all those weary miles, in order to relieve that poor, profligate, sin-stained Samaritan’ woman of all her sorrow. ‘Tis the same Jesus who looked up into the sycamore tree for Zacchæus (Luke 19:5). ‘Tis the same Jesus who melted the heart of the woman, that was a sinner, by. His love (Luke 7). Go where you will through the Gospels, and you will find enough to melt you to tears, but think that that same’ Jesus is speaking to you, seeking the confidence and love of your poor heart.

But, thank God, you need not go on spelling I any longer.

If, through grace, you are led to trust in the finished work of the Lord Jesus Christ, you will have a sweeter and a happier word to spell in your life down here. Suppose we ask the most eminent Christian there ever was, viz., the apostle Paul, what does his life’s occupation consist of? You will find his answer in Philippians 1:21, “For to me to live is Christ.” He leaves his old occupation spelling the religious I (see Phil. 3:4-6). But he, through grace, counts those things which were gain to him once as loss for Christ, and counts them as dung that he may win Christ. It is a blessed thing to be an epistle of Christ, known and read of all men (2 Cor. 3:2, 3). Suppose you get a letter from a friend, you say, That is my friend’s letter; I know his handwriting. So should Christians be, like letters written by Christ, through the power of the Holy Ghost.

Those who spell I in time, will spell it in hell for all eternity with the devil and his angels.

Those who spell Christ in time, through God’s grace will spend eternity in heaven, singing as in Revelation 1:5, 6. “Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.”

My friend, take God at His word, He will not mislead or fail you.

“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved” (Acts 16:31). That God may bless this to the salvation of your never-dying soul, is my earnest prayer. A. J. P.

The Comfort of the Blood.

THE blood was my first comfort, and I believe it will be my last comfort.... I feel as though the Lord were leading me from earth to heaven, by the steps of the 23rd Psalm. ‘The Lord is my Shepherd,’... ‘and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’” The words came slowly from the lips of the dying man―a doctor―passing away from a loving wife and children, in the prime of life, with a rest and joy in the Lord I have never seen surpassed. A few days later he passed away with” Bless the Lord” on his lips.

Many physicians are infidels. Why, I cannot say. I would that all such could have seen this dear friend of many years patiently pass through months of weakness, always rejoicing in Christ, and then at the last bear witness to the comfort of the despised blood of Jesus.

Ah! there is no real foundation for the soul apart from the blood of Christ. That blood cleanseth from all sin, removes every stain, purges the conscience, purifies the soul, relieves the distressed and sin-burdened heart, and sets the one who trusts it perfectly free in the presence of God. Death is robbed of its sting, the grave of its victory, and “judgment to come” has no meaning for the one who rests only on that which the Holy Ghost calls “the precious blood of Christ.”

What folly can exceed that which despises God’s only way of salvation―Jesus’ blood? No solid, real comfort is found apart from Christ and His blood.

What a portion is the Christian’s! He has a title without a flaw, and a prospect without a cloud.

Infidel, what comfort will you have on your deathbed? W. T. P. W.

To the Reader.

WHAT shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? If you had the wealth of a Rothschild, the money king, if you stood on the loftiest pinnacle of literary fame, or political ambition, if your name were adorned with all the honors which the universities of this world could bestow, if your brow were wreathed with the laurels, and your breast covered with the medals of a hundred victories, what would it profit you? You must leave all, you must pass through the narrow arch of time into the boundless ocean of eternity. Men of princely wealth, men of literary fame, men who have ruled by their intellectual power the Houses of Lords and Commons, men who have held their thousands hanging entranced upon their lips, men who have reached the very highest point of naval, military, and forensic distinction, have passed away into eternity; and the awful question as to such is, “Where is the soul?”

Beloved reader, we beseech thee, by the most weighty arguments that can possibly be urged upon the soul of man, not to turn away from this subject until thou hast come to a right conclusion. By God’s great love, by the cross and passion of Christ, by the powerful testimony of God the Holy Ghost, by the awful solemnity of a never-ending eternity, by the unspeakable value of thy immortal soul, by all the joys of heaven, by all the horrors of hell, ―by these seven weighty arguments, we urge thee, this moment, to come to Jesus. Delay not; argue not; reason not, ―but come now, unsaved soul. Just as you are, with all your sins, with all your misery, with your misspent life,— with your dreadful record of mercies slighted, advantages abused, opportunities neglected,—come to Jesus, who stands with open arms and loving heart ready to receive you, and points to those wounds which attest the reality of His atoning death upon the cross, and tells you to put your trust in Him, and assures you, you will never be confounded.

May God’s Spirit carry home this appeal to thy heart, this moment, and give thee no rest until thou art savingly converted to Christ, reconciled to God, and sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise, for His blessed name’s sake. C. H. M.

"There Is but One Way to Heaven, and Nobody Knows It."

SOME years ago I was asked to go and see an old lady, who was on her dying bed, as people say. She was over seventy years of age, and the doctors said she could not recover, or last many days. Old age and bronchitis, together with a severe winter, had been too much for her constitution, and now “the end” was come.

She had been asked if she would like to see a clergyman or minister of some sort; she said, “No,” but she told her son she would like to see me, if I would come. I consented, and went, wondering what she could want to see me for.

I was just a Christian, and that was all. I knew all my sins were forgiven, and why; and my only confidence was truly in the Lord Jesus Christ and His work on the cross, and not in any way of myself. I was also much occupied in doing well unto myself in the things of this life. My soul being safe and all secure for the next world, I thought the very next best thing to do was to make money fast, and thus secure my comforts and position in this.

I had known this old lady for years, she was what is called a fine woman, tall and strong, with a clear gray eye, and distinctly cut, stern features she was upright in both her figure and conduct, very reserved and proud; few were intimate with her, she was so independent. I was one of those few, and she would sometimes gossip a little with me; I was very young, and liked the notice the old lady took of me. Every Sunday she endeavored to go to a place of worship, church or chapel, but directly anybody took any notice of her, or showed her any attention, such as offering her a hymn book, &c., away she went, never to return, it may be. In this way she had gone over a considerable section of London, and attended, in the course of years, most of the so-called places of worship, especially those in her own neighborhood.

She would seldom discuss religious matters, but now and then she would say a little. One Sunday she went to one place and evidently heard what is termed a “moving discourse,” and was somewhat arrested by it. She was, however, a little late in leaving, and as she did so she observed the preacher come out of the vestry and get into a well-appointed brougham. That was enough for her, she told me; she put it all down as insincere, fine talk, and nothing else, for which he was well paid, &c. &c. &c. This will show you how crude her judgment was, but it also shows how careful those who preach Jesus should be in their testimony in all things: It has been remarked before, that there is one thing that God, Satan, and the world are agreed about, and that is, that a Christian shall be consistent. Now it may have been a necessity this brougham, or it may not, I do not know; but one thing is clear, those who preach Jesus must be prepared to follow Jesus, or their words will have little weight.

This old lady’s one ambition in life was to see her only son wealthy, and she lived to see it gratified. She toiled and stinted long years, day and night, early and late; to this, and for this, she spent her life. I do not think her son had a carriage when she saw this particular preacher get into his, and this may have made her jealous of him; I know not, I only know she was very angry.

To return to our narrative. I went to see the old lady as agreed; as I entered the room I found all rather dark, the door was softly closed behind me, I could scarcely see anything, only I heard heavy and labored breathing. The room was paneled with wood, and the house surrounded by high buildings, and naturally dismal; added to this, the yellow blinds were drawn down, all was close and dark, still and warm. I walked to the bed, there lay the old lady.

“Oh, here you are, laddie; I am very ill, I shan’t last long, the doctors say.”

I think I said “Yes.” I scarce knew what to say.

She then said, “I asked (that was her son) to send you to me, I wanted to tell you something.”

“Yes,” I replied; “what is it?”

“Well,” she said, “will you read with me?”

“What shall I read?”

“Out of the Bible,” she replied.

So I read her two or three short passages, I forget what. Then she asked me to pray. I did so. I had never done such a thing before, and I have no recollection of what I said, except that I had a feeling that this was a case where God alone could help, and I suppose my prayer took this form.

Then the old lady said, “Come here, laddie, I want to tell you my ideas; come close, I have never told any one my ideas, not even― (alluding again to her son), but I want to tell you.”

“Yes,” I said, “what is it?”

“Well, come close; I have never told anyone. Now, these are my ideas, there is but one way to heaven,” and then she paused and took breath, “but nobody knows it, nobody knows it,” she added emphatically.

For the moment I was simply aghast; I had a small inclination to cry, and then a very strong one to laugh, it was so intensely ridiculous and absurd. The sense of how terrible and bald it was as a deathbed confession instantly checked this feeling. I was silent for a short time, and then I said, “The first half of what you say is true, I know; but I don’t think the last half is, because there is a text which tells us the way.”

“Is there,” she said; “lead it to me.”

With some difficulty I found John 14:6, “Jesus saith unto him, I am, the way, the truth, and the life.” I said, “Jesus Christ said that, so He is the way, and we must all look to Him.”

“Is it there?” she asked; “all you sure?” I read it again.

She waited some little time, and then she said, “Oh, no, laddie. Nobody knows it! Nobody knows it!”

And this was all she could attain to, after all her journeyings and sermons; and so wishing her a long good-bye, I left her. Two days after she died. “Always learning, and never able to come to a knowledge of the truth,” was true of her.

The reader may now possibly query why I relate so melancholy and sad a history. I can only simply reply, to show how impossible it is for the natural mind to arrive, by its own aid, at the knowledge of God, or the ways of God. This poor old lady possessed a keen intelligence, and readily distinguished between the things that differ in the affairs of this life; she had also heard many learned divines and great preachers, but all was of no avail. She would not submit herself to the Word of God. She was proud and ambitious; in a way honest, and could not consent to take her place before God as a wretched sinner, and accept the blessed Lord Jesus as her Saviour.

She is not alone; today many of those who are called the leaders of thought, and great philosophers and scientists, confess themselves to be “agnostics,” that is, they own they know nothing but what their five senses can teach them; and though full of scholarship and science, are really as ignorant of what concerns their souls, of what is before them in eternity, and what is due to the glory of God, and what are the counsels of God, as this old lady, who, as regards scholarly and intellectual attainments, was ignorant enough. Water cannot rise above its own level, nor man above man; and man left to himself, knows no more about God and His salvation, than a fish about the laws that regulate the tides of the waters in which he swims.

Many know there can be but ONE right way. The laws of nature teach them that by analogy; but the melancholy result of all their learning and toil is this, “Nobody knows it! Nobody knows it!” The ignorant and the learned are here on the same platform.

And now, seeing this is so, not merely by my testimony, but by their own confession, why, O reader, if you are lingering in this cloud-land of speculation, will you not turn your back upon it all, and place your whole confidence in God? Turn to Him in your ignorance and wretchedness, and He will teach you the way of salvation, and bring peace to your troubled soul.

You will find the death of the Lord Jesus, when once grasped fully by faith, sufficient for all your needs, and such wonders wrought by it, that not only are you saved thereby, but such a provision made for you on all hands, in all circumstances, for both time and eternity, that you may be wholly indifferent about your share in the pleasures, honors, and riches of this world, so only that Christ Jesus be manifested in you and by you.

Therefore turn, oh turn from yourself, and turn to God! and if only this little paper be the means by God’s grace of persuading you to it, we will together praise God throughout eternity, that He has not only provided the way, but also made it plain to our souls. God grant it, for Christ’s sake.

Amen. F. P. R.

Do You Hope, or Know, That You Have Eternal Life?

THIS question, dear reader, is one of the deepest importance, and your answer will evidence either that you are, if hoping, still in uncertainty as to the salvation of your precious soul, and consequently without peace with God; or, if knowing, in the conscious enjoyment of God’s grace toward you through the Lord Jesus Christ, in whom you believe.

Most of those to whom I put my query decidedly answer “I hope,” very frequently adding, “it is impossible to know.” If you agree with such a reply, allow me to show you from Scripture that it is not only possible, but actually contemplated by God, that whoever believes in His Son should not only have eternal life, but know that it is possessed even now. To effect my object, I cannot do better than relate how one who, like you, “hoped,” was led to “know.”

I was preaching the gospel in the south of Ireland, having but one evening to devote to that particular place. In the afternoon a young believer informed me that her mother had promised to come to the gospel meeting at night. She was an elderly person, by no means opposed to the things of God, but had never given evidence of having simply received the truth of the gospel in its peace-giving power. Anxious as the daughter was for her mother’s blessing, she was nevertheless importunate that I should not speak personally to her for fear of her being offended, and laid rather a strict embargo on my lips should I happen to come in contact with the old lady.

At the close of the evening gospel meeting, as I was standing near the door, I saw Mrs. H— (whom I recognized from the afternoon’s conversation) passing slowly out. Offering her a little tract, and at the same time expressing a wish that she might receive no harm on her way home from the rain, which was falling in torrents, she replied that she did not think she would, and further, that she was glad she had come, for she had much enjoyed the meeting.

As I had been speaking on the text “Be it known, therefore, unto you that the SALVATION OF GOD is sent unto the Gentiles, and they will hear it” (Acts 28:28), I added, “I trust you now know the salvation of God, and have eternal life.”

“I hope so,” was her reply, showing no desire to pass me.

“But why should you only ‘hope,’ my friend, when God wishes you to ‘know’ that, if believing in His Son, you have eternal life?”

“Well, sir, I believe in the Son of God, and all I can say is I ‘hope,’ and I don’t think any one can ‘know’ as long as they are in this world.”

“If you will permit me,” I answered, “I will show you just one little verse in the Word of God which will settle that matter definitively.”

“You need not trouble yourself,” said she, “I know the Word of God well. Ever since I was a child I have studied it, and I don’t believe there is a verse you can show me that I don’t know.”

“Just one, Mrs. H―.”

“Well, where is it?” said she.

Taking her large-print Bible from her hands, I found and read to her, “These things have I WRITTEN unto you that BELIEVE in the name of the Son of God, that ye may KNOW that ye HAVE eternal life” (1 John 5:13). I read it a second time, and then said, “Do you believe in the name of the Son of God?”

“I do,” was the emphatic reply.

“You really do own that you are a lost sinner needing salvation, and that nothing but the blood-shedding of the Son of God could avail to put away your sins?”

“I do.”

“You repudiate all thought of salvation by your own works, confess that you are an undone, guilty, lost sinner, and now simply believe in the name of the Son of God?”

“I do,” was again the short and sincere answer I got.

“Well, then, granting all that, have you eternal life?”

“I hope so.”

“Oh,” was my reply, “I see it now; in the days when you went to school, which is, of course, a great while ago, they used to spell differently then from now.”

“How so, sir?”

“Why, K-N-O-W used to spell HOPE in those days?” “Not at all, sir.”

“What did they spell?”

“Why, of course, they spelled KNOW the same then as now.”

“There is a mistake somewhere,” I replied, “there must be, for you say you believe in the name of the Son of God, and He says, ‘These things have I written unto you that believe in the name of the Son of God, that ye may KNOW that ye have eternal life,’ and you stand there and tell me that you only hope you have it.”

“Let me see that verse myself,” said the old lady, suiting her actions to her words by diving her hand into her pocket, and taking out and adjusting her spectacles. Once and again she read slowly to herself, and then most emphatically out aloud, “These things have I written unto you that BELIEVE ON THE NAME OF THE SON OF GOD, that ye may KNOW that ye HAVE ETERNAL LIFE.” The Spirit of God blessed her perusal of the sacred message, and filled her heart with peace as she believed it. “Hope” died on the spot, and faith and amazement mingled had full possession of her soul. Looking up, she now added, “Well, is it not strange? For, often as I have read the Epistle of John, I never saw that verse yet. Of course I must have read it, for I am very fond of St John’s writings, but I never saw it in the light I do now. I am very glad you spoke to me, sir, and showed me that verse. Dear me, how dark I have been, and there it was all the time and so plain too; I wonder I never saw it before!”

“Well, thank God you see it now, and you believe it simply as it stands, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes, there’s no room left for ‘hoping’ or doubting now; I’m sure now, and I have to thank you for drawing my attention to the Lord’s Word.”

We had a little more conversation, and then, seeing that she was now resting simply on the Lord and His blessed written Word, I bade her “good-night,” closing our short and only possible earthly interview with this question, “And now, Mrs. H―, if a friend meets you on your way home and asks, ‘Have you eternal life?’ What shall you say?” With a face now beaming with joy in the assurance of God’s salvation, she replied, “I should tell them that I KNOW I HAVE IT because I believe in Jesus, and God has said, ‘These things have I written unto you that believe in the name of the Son of God, that ye may know that ye have eternal life.’ Good-night, and good-bye, sir.”

To her it was truly a good-night, and to me truly good-bye, for not many weeks after the dear old lady passed away to be forever with the Lord, in the sweet enjoyment of the present possession of eternal life.

And now, my dear reader, I trust you will be as simple as was the one of whom I have written. If you know that you are a ruined lost sinner (and you must know it if you accept the testimony of the Word of God), just look away from yourself simply to Jesus. You will never get peace by looking to yourself, or trying to realize or feel assurance. This only is obtained by simply receiving God’s testimony to you. You must receive His witness to you before there can be any witness in you. Nothing can be simpler. I must be in a relationship in order to enjoy its proper affections, or fulfill its duties. I must know that I am a son of God before I can feel like one; so must you. I must know (and I do know) from God’s Word that I “have eternal life,” before I can (and I do) feel that I have it; so must you.

“Lord Jesus! we, believing

In Thee, have peace with God;

Eternal life receiving,

The purchase of Thy blood.

Our curse and condemnation

Thou bearest in our stead;

Secure is our salvation

In Thee, our risen Head.”

W. T. P. W.

"I Am Doing My Best."

IT is a common thing to hear men say, when pressed as to the question of the salvation of their souls, “Well, I have turned over a new leaf. That is to say, though I have not been as good as I should have been; though I have been in the habit of swearing, or drinking, or carousing with the ungodly, I shall do none of these things anymore; and surely if a man does the best he can, that is all that God can require, and will not punish us for what we cannot help.” Now, I trust to be able to show the reader of this, that such a system of reasoning as the above is wholly wrong in principle; and if carried out, wholly insufficient to meet his need.

First, its principle is wrong; for what reason or justice would there be in a judge acquitting a criminal of his past offenses, on the ground of the criminal promising to do better for the future? Would not such a judge be denounced by every right-minded citizen? Is it not a simple matter of justice that the offender should be made to pay the penalty of his crimes, no matter what his promise might be? Now as it is with a criminal in the courts of human justice, so is it with the sinner who has to meet God as his Judge, irrespective of his resolution, whether sincere or otherwise, to lead a better life, after having spent twenty, or thirty, or forty years in sinning against God. Would a hundred years of man’s “good living” atone for one year spent in forgetfulness of God, and of doing one’s own will? Never! such a principle, then, is wrong on the face of it.

But suppose a man’s good resolutions were carried out, which as a matter of fact they never are: suppose a man succeeded in leaving of swearing, drinking, stealing, lying, backbiting, hating, lusting, envying, deceiving― (let history produce such a man if it can) ―it would leave all untouched the state that man has got himself into through sin. Take an example: Can an old rotten boat be made a sound one? Would all the patching and mending within the range of man’s ingenuity succeed in making that boat a safe carrier for the precious human soul? Nay, my friend, the thing is beyond recovery; and the man who trusts his life in such a craft is the worst of fools. What would be the use indeed of a resolution never to trust himself in another such boat, when in mid-ocean he finds himself sinking hopeless and alone, with no help near to answer his despairing cries? Fool indeed, is he, who, against the warning of friends, sets out in a craft of his own choosing, ― painted to attract the eye, while the paint but covers the rottenness till the victim is beyond the reach of help. Friend, if this finds you in a painted boat, ―gilded all over with your good deeds, ―listen to a warning voice, and get out of it; it is the boat of pride and self-complacency, and will launch you to a certain and dreadful doom; it will let in the water faster than you can bail it out, and ruin and despair will be your end.

Now, have I not shown that neither, nor both of the principles, so frequently and naturally adopted by man, are suited to his need, not even after regarding one of them as capable of being practically carried out? The first fails in the point of justice, and the second will not make new what is rotten and condemned. “Turning over a new leaf” is to forget that the old sins are not yet canceled; in your account to God you are still charged with them, and if allowed to remain there they will bring you into judgment. “Doing the best you can,” is like being in a rotten boat with both oars broken; every effort you make but increases your danger. Stop now, look at the matter calmly, and see your state; are you not reduced to absolute helplessness? You cannot lift a finger in your own cause; if you persist in “doing,” you will find at last that God is against you; you cannot produce an unblotted leaf, and you cannot make new what is old and condemned.

Now, my friend, I entreat you to look away from yourself. There was once a man who stood in the breach between you and God; His name was Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God; fix your eye on Him, and you will see how He has met the whole question as to your salvation. Nay, do not grow impatient; if you really want salvation, it is here; if you are in earnest, you will find it; but you will never, never get saved in any other way, nor by any other means, than through this man. Listen, there is one sin between your soul and God, one sin that outweighs all others put-together, and that is the rejection of the Son of God! You need not count your other sins; begin with this one, and stop. Now you stand face to face with Jesus Christ, the Man you have rejected, and you remain His rejecter, with His blood staining your hands. Morally, you cannot evade the charge. Look steadily at the question, and if you do not tremble, your conscience is harder than a millstone.

Now look again: The victim of your scorn and hatred is but standing in your place; He is your friend, and has taken upon Himself all that you stood charged with by a holy God. He is near you, and is pleading softly for you to take Him in. Will you refuse? Oh! now your other sins float before your mind, and you cannot reconcile them with such a Guest. “I am not fit,” you say; but see, on the CROSS, your sins were laid on Him (1 Peter 2:24), and that was long before you ever existed or ever committed one sin. God had decreed that Christ should suffer (Acts 4:18). Was it because that God was not well pleased with His Son? Nay, for He said, “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” The secret of His sufferings must be sought for elsewhere; it was, that God loved the sinner. But He could not justly let him off till that which was due to sin had been fully meted out; wondrous to tell, it fell with all its awful force upon the sinner’s SUBSTITUTE!

Are you willing to take that place of being one for whom another died, thereby confessing that you are a lost sinner, helpless, and without strength to save yourself? Cease now your works of righteousness, and begin by having faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, for it is “not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us.” Search from cover to cover of your Testament, and you will not find God once holding out a standard of works or measure of attainment as a means of salvation. God has proved by the law that such an appeal to man is worse than vain; “Knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ... for by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified” (Gal. 2:16). “As many as are of the works of the law are under the curse;” but “Christ Hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us.” (Gal. 3:11, 13).

Now, my friend, stop at once, own your folly, take your place at Jesus’ feet, and rest forever in what He has done for you; then the language of your self-emptied heart will be, ―

“I would not work my soul to save,

That work my Lord Hath done;

But I would work like any slave

From love to God’s dear Son.”

Read this again! J. M.

To Him That Worketh Not.

“Now to him who worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt. But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.” ―Romans 4:4, 5.

TROUBLED soul, are you bowed down beneath the burden of your sins? Accept, in simple faith, the above Divine statement, and salvation is yours. Are you toiling, working, striving to be better than you are?

Read carefully these blessed verses, and you will see the utter fruitlessness of all your efforts in the flesh to please God.

Do you say, like thousands more, “But we must try?” Try! Try to be better! Try to improve the flesh; try to make up for the misspent past to a holy God; try to expiate your sins by your self-righteousness! for such it is. You may as well try to change the Ethiopian’s skin or the leopard’s spots (Jer. 13:23). When you can accomplish this, then may you do good who are accustomed to do evil. “If I wash myself with snow-water, and make my hands never so clean; yet shalt thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine own clothes shall abhor me” (Job 9:30, 31). “For though thou wash thee with niter, and take thee much soap, yet thine iniquity is marked before me, saith the Lord God” (Jer. 2:22).

“All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags” (Isa. 64:6).

No; salvation is not to him that worketh, but to him that worketh, not. God’s thoughts are not as ours. The natural thoughts of the natural man are always opposed to the thoughts of God. “Every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually” (Gen. 6:5). Man thinks it is to him that worketh; God says it is “to him, that worketh, not.” The little word not makes all the difference. The greater part of the religious machinery of Christendom is founded on the forgetfulness of it, and tens of thousands perish eternally through failing to pay heed to it.

Men work, and set others to work, in numberless ways for salvation; but God says distinctly that it is “to him that worketh not.” His word is clear, plain, and decisive― “worketh not.” You may have your own thoughts about it, dear reader; but there stands the imperishable statement of the Word of God, “worketh not.” God says what He means, and means exactly what He says. You may fancy it means something slightly different; you may pare it down; you may add to it; or you may pay no heed to it; ―it in no way alters it. Salvation is “to him that worketh, not.” You may be saved today, this very hour, now, without a single work of any kind whatsoever―past, present or future. Whoever you may be, wherever you may dwell, whatever you may have done, God’s worketh not is for you.

One work only is necessary for a sinner’s salvation, the finished work of Christ; hence your works are entirely excluded as the ground of your salvation. They are all imperfect, faulty, sinful; but the finished work of Christ is perfect, complete, infinite, and God is glorified thereby. Hence it is that we read, “But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness” (Rom. 4:5), Bow to the word of God, believe on Him, and the blessing is yours.

How very simple! Salvation is of grace. If a man does so much work for another, clearly it is not grace to pay him for the work done. It is a debt owed. Hence, also, if a sinner does a number of good works (!) in order to be saved, God is his debtor, grace is ignored and set aside, and the sinner can take the credit of his own salvation. But the Divine plan is “to him that worketh not.” To him that ceases from his own fleshly efforts to be good, casting his deadly doings down, “but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly,” the faith of that man is counted for righteousness. This is the way of grace, and all the glory redounds to God. The wretched heart of man struggles to the last moment to take the glory to itself. “To him that worketh not” makes nothing of man. But “believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly” magnifies God’s grace, and glorifies Him forever.

Dear reader, will you give up your works, and believe on God? We are justified by faith, and not by works. God justifies the ungodly. Who? The ungodly. Not the godly―note it well—but the ungodly. If God justified the godly, nobody would be justified at all. Such a people is not to be found. True godliness is the fruit of justification, not the ground of it. God justifies the ungodly, that they may become godly. Do not imagine that God justifies ungodliness; far be the thought. But when a man learns, in the Presence of God, that all his doings are mixed with sin, and confesses he is ungodly, then He justifies him from his ungodliness.

“Christ died for the ungodly.” Hence God justifies the believer on the ground of His finished work. His faith is counted for righteousness. His wickedness condemns him; his best works are mixed with sin; his own righteousness is as filthy rags;―but on the ground of the infinite sacrifice and finished work of Christ on Calvary, God, having raised Him from the dead, justifies the soul that believes on Him. “Even as David also describeth the blessedness of the man, unto whom God imputeth righteousness without works, saying, Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord will not impute sin” (Rom. 4:6-8).

Dear reader, is this blessedness yours? Precious, soul-comforting doctrine of the living and imperishable Word, God imputeth righteousness without works. There it is, over and over again, in every Bible in every language in Christendom. To him that worketh not (Rom. 4:5); without works (Rom. 4:6); not according to our works (2 Tim. 1:9); not by works of righteousness which we have done (Titus 3:5). Of works? Nay (Rom. 3:27); not of works (Eph. 2:9).

“The good for nothing, helpless ones,

Find mercy on the spot;

For thus the Gospel message runs,

‘To him that worketh not.’”

O that one could write these golden words with the point of a diamond upon every self-righteous heart in Christendom! How many a tempest-tossed soul would find a haven of rest and peace, did they but take God at His word with the simplicity of a little child.

“Weary, working, burdened one,

Wherefore toil you so?

Cease your doing, all was done

Long, long ago.”

Yes, troubled heart, the finished work of Christ’ could bridge the awful gulf that separated a lost, guilty sinner from the Living God. The rotten planks of human righteousness will land all who trust in them in the lake of fire forever. Once again we press it upon you, reader, as we value your precious soul, God says, “To him that worketh not.”

But are there no works whatever? some may reply. Ah, yes, there are works which God can accept, but only those which are the fruit of faith.

Time enough to talk about them when you have rested in simple faith upon the finished work of Christ, ―when you have believed God, and are justified. As long as you are in your sins, every work, act, deed, word, thought’ is defiled. “In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing” (Rom. 7:18). “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked” (Jer. 17:9). “Every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually” (Gen. 6:5). But justified, we receive the Holy Ghost, who is alone the power to produce good works, the fruit and evidence of faith, to the glory of His Name.

E. H. C.

The Two Wills.

A TRADESMAN, on his deathbed, once hurriedly called me in to make his will; and it was well no time was lost in attending to it, for before sunset that day he passed away to his long home.

His mind kept clear, but his body was so feeble that his hand had to be held for his signature, which was one mass of scribbles, but which sufficed, because it was duly witnessed.

When the witness had withdrawn, and the dying man had somewhat revived from the exhaustion of the business, which was very complicated, I remarked to him, ―

“Mr. L―, I have handed the will to your wife, and your affairs are now settled for time, and are all right for this world. May I ask, are they also all right for eternity and the next world, to which you are so rapidly hastening? For these eternal realities are of infinitely more importance than the fleeting things of time and sense.”

“Well, sir,” said he, “I have been thinking a good deal about that too since I fell ill, and have been anxiously waiting to see someone about it, and am glad you have named it now, for I have driven both matters very late.”

“Well, Mr. L―, I am glad to hear you are, anxious about that too. Then what is your will about your soul for all eternity?”

“Oh,” said he, “I want to be all right; but I have been a wicked man―a real bad one.”

“That’s right,” I added, “let all out to God, for you are just the very one for Jesus; just the one, to be a monument of His grace and mercy, for He did not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance, ―having no pleasure in the death of the wicked. Jesus died for real bad ones. He died, the Just, for the unjust, that He might bring us to God; and the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth us from all sin. Do you, Mr. L―, see that you deserved the wrath and judgment, Jesus received on Calvary’s cross at the hands of the Holy God you have sinned against?”

“Yes, I do indeed!” said the dying man.

“Then, do I understand that, as a helpless sinner, you receive Him as your Saviour and substitute” “I do, most gladly.”

“You believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and are saved, are you?”

“Indeed, I do.”

“Well, if you really do, Mr. L―, your soul’s affairs are all right for eternity and the next world. You have bowed to God’s will, and have set to your seal that God is true. Your soul’s eternal affairs were settled by your Substitute on the Cross, and the whole thing is in His safe keeping. Your life is hid with Christ in God, and when Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall we also appear with Him in glory. And when we see Him, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.”

A delay of just another hour or two and this man would have been forever too late for both his temporal and spiritual affairs to be settled favorably. His earthly ones would no doubt, in time, have been surmounted, with difficulty, confusion and perhaps some quarreling among the relatives: but oh! his immortal soul’s eternal ones never could have been favorably settled, no, not even in the eternal lake of fire. Friend, thank God you are not yet too late to know your soul’s salvation settled; but mark, God says: “Behold, NOW is the accepted time; behold, NOW is the day of salvation” (2 Cor. 6:2). It is right enough to set your earthly affairs straight, if you possess but a shilling in the world you are leaving, but how sad to think of how often the soul’s eternal things are put off till the last, and, it is to be feared in very many cases, till it is forever too late. It is very solemn; but there is but one instance, so far as we know recorded in God’s Word, of a soul being saved at the “eleventh hour,” and that one is the thief on the cross. One such case there is, that none might despair; only one that none might presume.

Therefore, do not for one single moment presume upon your deathbed to get such a momentous question settled. Furthermore, you might never see a deathbed, as is so with many. How fearful for the soul to wake up in hell and find Satan having had his will, and too late to alter. For, as the tree falls so it lies. That rich man who lifted up his eyes in hell, being in torments, wanted an alteration. He craved a drop of water on the tip of a finger to cool his tongue, and a message of warning to be sent to his five brothers still on earth, ―but it was too late. The reply he got for himself in hell was, that there was a great gulf fixed between himself and help; and for his brethren, that if they believed not Moses and the prophets, neither would they be persuaded though one rose from the dead. He might have left all his earthly affairs straight, and as clean as a new pin, but what about that then! Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade men.

Reader, what about knowing your eternal affairs settled ere it be too late? Ponder it, we beseech you!

When this world had the option of choosing either a Saviour or a murderer, they chose the murderer, and Pilate delivered Jesus to THEIR WILL to be crucified. Permit me to ask, Are you still on the world’s side, whose will got rid of Jesus? or have you bowed, and has your heart sided with God, and received God’s Christ? Because the answer to this question lets out the whole secret.

God is long-suffering to usward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also, and the works that are therein, shall be burnt up “(2 Peter 3:9, 10). Where will your soul be then? “As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that thy wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways, for why will ye die?” (Ezek. 33:11).

Jesus said, “Whosoever WILL, let him take the water of life freely.”

WILL YOU take it, and know your immortal soul’s eternal affairs favorably settled forever?

J. N.

"Traveler to Eternity, Consider."

COME, O my soul, thy certain ruin trace,

If thou neglect the Saviour’s proffered grace.

Infinite years in torments must I spend,

Which never, never, never have an end.

Yes, I must dwell in torturing despair

As many years as atoms in the air:

When these are spent, as many thousands more

As grains of sand upon the ocean shore:

When these are gone, as many to ensue

As blades of grass and drops of morning dew:

When these expire, as many millions more

As moments in the millions past before:

When all these doleful 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 a hope—but, ah! I shiver

To think upon the dreadful words, Forever.

Friend, is the question on thy heart engraved,

‘What shall I do to be forever saved?’

‘Believe in Jesus,’ is the sole reply,

Believe in Him, and thou shalt never die;

His precious blood gives pardon, life, and peace,

Freedom from guilt, and joys that never cease.”

"Haud on, Dearie, He'll No' Shake Ye Aff."

“And a certain woman, which had an issue of blood twelve years, and had suffered many things of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse, when she had heard of Jesus, came in the press behind, and touched his garment: for she said, If I may touch but his clothes, I shall be whole. And straightway the fountain of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of that plague. And Jesus, immediately knowing in himself that virtue had gone out of him, turned him about in the press, and said, Who touched my clothes? And his disciples said unto him, Thou seest the multitude thronging thee, and sayest thou, Who touched me? And he looked round about to see her that had done this thing. But the woman, fearing and trembling, knowing what was done in her, came and fell down before him, and told him all the truth. And he said unto her, Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague.” ―Mark 5:25-34.

I WAS traveling in a third-class carriage on the Caledonian Railway some years ago, starting for an evangelistic tour, when, at a small station in the country, a middle-aged woman of grave and serious demeanor, and evidently of the humblest class of society, got into my compartment. Giving her a gospel tract, she read it, and then made some comment which led me to judge she was a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, an impression which further conversation quite confirmed, ―in fact she was a child of God, and happy in the sense of His love to her. Presently she volunteered that she was going to her home, but with rather a sad heart, as she had been at the death and burial of one who had been her most intimate friend from the days of childhood. On my inquiring if her friend had died in the Lord, she replied, ― “On, ay. I believe she was a guide woman.”

“What grounds have you for such a statement?” I asked.

“Weel, sir, she was a guid-livin’ woman, for I’ve kent her free I was a bairn; but jist afore she deed I spier’t at her what her hope for eternity really was.”

“And what did she say?”

“She answered me, ‘I canna say that I ha’e that peace an’ that assurance I’ve heerd some folk tell o’, but I can truly say I’m like you puir woman in the Gospels wi’ the issue o’ bluid, who, when she heerd o’ Jesus, cam’ an’ touched the hem o’ His garmint; and the’ I canna say I feel as I wad like tae, an’ my faith is weak, I’m jist clingin’ tae Him.’”

“That was good,” said I;” and “what comfort did you seek to give her?”

“Weel, weel, sir, I jist said, Haud on, dearie, He’ll no’ shake ye aff!’”

The train stopped; my friend got out. I have never seen her since, and I never expect to again till I see her in glory, but her last words have remained firmly engraved on my memory; and though many thousands have doubtless heard this simple narrative in the, preaching-rooms where I may have related it, I put it on paper and send it forth in an enduring form, with the hope and prayer that it may cheer some timid, doubting, yet withal believing soul.

“Haud on, dearie, He’ll no’ shake ye aff!” It was a fine word for a dying soul, that clung to the Saviour, to hear. It is in such moments that Satan gathers up all his powers, arrays all his hosts, marshals all his forces, and shoots all his poisoned arrows to distress and distract the physically enfeebled one. What comfort in such a condition must it have been to this dying one, to hear such a sweet testimony to the blessed Lord as this, “He’ll no’ shake ye aff!”

Let no one suppose that in narrating this incident I am pleading for an uncertain state of soul. Quite the contrary. If my reader has been hitherto in uncertainty as to his or her relationship to God, my deep desire is that the apprehension of what God’s grace really is may forever dispel all the gloomy clouds which have hindered the enjoyment of the sunshine of His favor. Do not tell me about yourself, and what you are, or are not; what you have done, or have not done. Peace, and the assurance of salvation, are not found in anything that springs from us, but in what God is and has been for us, as seen in the life and death of His blessed Son, the Lord Jesus. You must then keep your eye on Christ, and your ear attentively open to what He says, if you are to have peace.

Look at the touching tale which heads this paper, and to which the dying woman referred. What was the state of matters? Twelve years ill, she had “suffered many things,” had “spent all,” was “nothing bettered,” but “rather grew worse.” Twelve is the number that speaks of completeness in matters of human administration. Here it was complete misery. Every human resource had been found to be a source of vexatious disappointment not of healing. Complete poverty was the result, for she had “spent all.” This is just the case for Jesus; and if you, my reader, have found out that you are a poor weak sinner, needing salvation, and unable to save yourself,—spite of all the remedies which incompetent spiritual physicians prescribe, in the shape of good resolutions, amendment of life almsgiving, attendance on the means of grace, observance of ordinances, prayers, tears, penitential imposts, and perhaps even bodily flagellation,—you cannot do better than follow her footsteps.

Her faith was beautifully simple. She had heard of Jesus, and what she had heard had begotten in her heart the full conviction that to get into contact with Him, even remotely, meant sure and certain blessing. So convinced, her course is simple; may yours be the same. She “heard,” she “came,” she “touched,” and “straightway the fountain of her blood was dried up,” and, as a very simple consequence, she “felt” that “she was healed.”

Now this is always the way the soul comes to Jesus, for “faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” It is what you hear of Him in God’s Word that leads you to cast yourself simply on Him. The moment faith does that, the blessing is sure, and present too. Faith always secures the blessing, because it has Christ for its object, and not “self” in any shape or form. There was no virtue in her touch; all the virtue was in Him whom she touched, though it flowed forth bounteously in response to that touch of faith.

But there is a point of immense importance here. Not only is she sure she has touched Him, though it were only the hem of His garment―the sense of healing being “straightway” communicated―but He knew He had been touched, and by whom. Yes, Jesus knows if you have come to Him in simple faith or not. He is not an unobservant witness of the heavings and throbbings of the weary, restless heart, that scarce knows what it needs, yet finds all that need met in Himself. Here “Jesus, immediately knowing in himself that virtue had gone out of him,... said, Who touched my clothes?” In vain do the disciples speak of the throng. The multitude had thronged, but not “touched” Him; faith alone did that. Yet did He not know who it was? Clearly, for “he looked round about to see her that had done this thing.” Why these, queries, then? Because the Lord loves to confirm faith wherever He finds it. The woman, healed thus perfectly, was about to retire without any confession of Him whose grace she had tasted. So now is it with many souls. They have trusted Jesus, got a sense of relief, perhaps even the half-hope that they are forgiven, but they have never got full peace or assurance. Why? Because they have never simply and fully confessed Christ, and hence never got to the point where they were free to listen simply to what He has to say to them. Till this moment is reached, two words describe the condition of such souls, viz., “fearing” and “trembling,” which is just what we read: “But the woman, fearing and trembling, knowing what was done in her, came and fell down before him, and told him all the truth.”

This is unreserved committal of one’s self to Jesus, and what is the result? What I am wont to call the finest “confirmation service” in all Scripture. Had the Lord allowed her to go off without what now follows, she never would have had peace; for Satan would have followed her, and whispered, “Oh, yes, it’s quite true you are better just now, but your trouble will be sure to break out again; you are relieved, not cured;” and the fear of the impending plague would have corroded the joy which she rightly had. How gracious is the Lord! He does not like any soul that has trusted Him to be duped, deceived, and distressed any longer by the devil; so He speaks words which forever calm the troubled heart, “Daughter, thy faith Hath made thee whole; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague.”

Not only is she made whole, but peace is to fill her heart if she thinks of the future; for “be whole of thy plague” are His last words to the one with whom He owns relationship by the exquisite epithet “daughter”

She had, therefore, the divinely given certainty, that she could never relapse into that state out of which the virtue which flowed from Jesus had drawn her. Similarly, the one who trusts Him now is entitled to know that forgiveness and eternal life are present possessions, and never can be lost; for what He gives in grace, He does not recall, even though the recipient be faulty and failing.

Scripture testimony is abundant on this point; e.g., “To him give all the prophets witness, that, through his name, whosoever believeth in him dual receive the remission of sins” (Acts 10:43). “In whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace” (Eph. 1:7). Again, “I write unto you, little children, because your sins are forgiven you for his name’s sake” (1 John 2:12). Thus we see on what ground God forgives. Christ’s work, and faith in His name. But not only does He forgive, ―which takes up my past history, pardoning my sins, ―He gives something that I am to enjoy now and forever. Thus my present and my future are met by what He gives, viz., “eternal life.”

How is this obtained? Hear His own word, and doubt no more. “Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that believeth on me hath everlasting life” (John 6:47). “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand” (John 10:27, 28). What certainty! It is a confirmation of the simple saying, “He’ll no’ shake ye aff.” And not only does He give eternal life, but the one who believes Him is to know that he has it, for, “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” (John 20:31); and, “These things have I written unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God, that ye may know that ye have eternal life” (1 John 5:13).

If you trust the blessed Son of God, ever so simply and feebly, present and eternal blessing is yours, and you ought to know, and rejoice in it. Not only is it yours, but you can never lose it, for it is “in Christ,” and therefore secure. Do you think sometimes He will give you up, because even since you trusted Him you have failed to rightly respond to His grace? Such a thought is entirely a suggestion of Satan, contrary to the Spirit of Christ and the teaching of Scripture; for it is written, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:37); and, “Jesus.... having loved his own which were in the world, loved them unto the end” (John 8:1). These things being so, of all who trust the Saviour, this also is true: “We are bound to give thanks alway to God for you, brethren beloved of the Lord, because God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit, and belief of the truth: whereunto he called you by our gospel, to the obtaining of the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Thess. 2:13,14). Therefore, dear believing reader, I will only add a closing word, “Haud on, dearie, He’ll no’ shake ye aff.” W. T. P. W.

The Two Sons.

“A CERTAIN man had two sons ... . Now his elder son was in the field: and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant” (Luke 15:11:25, 26).

We oftentimes read with interest the parable of the Prodigal’s return; but many stop too often at the end of that, and forget that “a certain man had TWO sons.” We like to hear how the wanderer was received back, but does the question ever arise, What about the elder son, what became of him?

Are any of those who may look at this little paper still in company with the elder son of the parable? We are all either inside, rejoicing with the Father in His joy, and thus identified with the returned wanderer: or outside in company with the elder son.

If this last, dear friend, why? Look a moment at his history, ― “he came and drew nigh to the house,” and hearing the music and dancing, wanted to know what it was all about. Have you ever wondered what made your believing relatives and friends so happy? and have you asked yourself what it all meant?

God the Father rejoices in the return of the lost one; and they have told you how they were once in “the far country,” but have now been brought to God, and they are glad. Well, then, how about you, dear reader? Are you angry too? Why? Is not the door open for you, the same door by which the younger brother was taken, in? Indeed it is, and still kept open by a hand of love. “He was angry, and would not go in: therefore came his father out, and entreated him.” The servant stands on one side, and the master of the house comes out himself to “entreat”! “As though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God.” How blessed! God can thus “come out,” for the Shepherd has been right down into the very depths of death, to enable a holy God to come out in righteousness, as well as grace, and save “all that come unto God by him.”

But do you join hands with this poor elder son in his answer to the entreaties of love, “Lo, these many years do I serve thee; neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends?” Look at what this answer is made up of; pride, self-righteousness, and selfishness; ―pride, in his length of service; self-righteousness, in his claim never to have transgressed; and utter selfishness, as shown in his complaint that his father had never-given him a kid that he might make merry with his friends. He did not want his father’s company, but the gift, that he might enjoy it with his friends. Is this like you, dear unconverted reader, outside, angry, and proud? Oh! think, God is keeping the door open, as it were, with His hand on the latch, entreating up to the very last moment.

Don’t put this of by saying the elder son is a picture of the Jew. No doubt he is; but the first elder son we read of was no Jew. Cain was not a Jew, and Cain’s has been the sad history of every proud, self-righteous, selfish sinner ever since; and Cain’s end, as described in the Epistle of Jude, will be the everlasting end of all such. Oh! pause, and think. You are either inside, rejoicing in company with the Father, having come to an end of yourself, nothing on you but what the Father’s grace has provided to cover your nakedness, and rejoicing in His joy at having His lost one back; or else outside, refusing to come in,― “angry, and would not come in;” proud, in standing up in your own strength before Him; self-righteous, in cleaving to your own wretched morality apart from Him; and selfish, in refusing Him the joy of blessing you according to His own heart.

Or it may be you know that you have no righteousness of your own, and you would gladly have the blessing. If so, what saith the Word to you, “we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God?” Everything is done; all that God has of blessing is there for you in Christ, as long as the door of His mercy stands wide open, for “he hath made him to be sin for us [he] who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.” Sinner, God beseeches you, “why standest thou without?”

Or yet you may know all this, dear friend; you may have often heard “the old old story” from the lips of some loved relative or friend, and you like sometimes to think of its sweetness, but you don’t like “to make a profession!” You think “there is plenty of time yet.” You are young maybe, and life is before you. Take care, the day is AT HAND when that door, kept open, as it is now, by the mercy of a God of love, will be closed forever on those then found “angry” and who “would not go in;” and you may be fixed, too late, as an angry arguer with an entreating God, instead of a thankful adoring receiver of His mercy. Oh! now bow, before it be too late, and let Him have His joy in blessing you with all that He has.

“Because there is wrath, beware lest he take thee away with his stroke; then a great ransom cannot deliver thee” (Job 36:18).

J. R. B.

What Think Ye of Christ?

MOMENTOUS question! Dear reader, your eternal welfare depends upon the answer. Nearly nineteen centuries ago the world was tested by His presence. God presented His Son, and said, as it were, “What think ye of Christ?” The world’s awful reply was “the cross.” Men spat upon, buffeted, scourged, and crucified Him. This was the world’s estimate of Jesus the Christ, the Son of the Living God.

“Away with him, away with him!” “Crucify him, crucify him!” “Not this man, but Barabbas!” were the fierce clamors of the blood-thirsty Jewish rabble, hounded on by their religious leaders, against the patient, spotless One, when Pilate said to them, “Behold your king.”

Laid in a manger at His birth, because there was no room for Him in the inn (Luke 2:7), the Son of Man had not where to lay His head in this evil world (Luke 9:58), and left it on a cross between two thieves. He was in the world, and the world was made by Him, and the world knew Him not. Alas, poor world!

But what a contrast to the thoughts of God! Man puts a reed in His hand, plants a crown of thorns upon His blessed brow, bows before Him as a mock king, and nails Him to the cross. God raises Him from the dead, and exalts Him to His own right hand, crowns Him with glory and honor, and calls upon angels and men to bow to the name of Jesus, who shall sway the scepter of the universe!

Dear reader, have you bowed? What think ye of Christ? Have you believed on Him? Is He your Saviour? Do you know Him?

“What think ye of Christ?’ is the test,

To try both your state and your scheme;

You cannot think right of the rest,

Unless you think rightly of Him.”

Is He to you the chiefest among ten thousand, the altogether lovely, the fairer than the children of men? Or, do you still form part of that poor condemned world that crucified the Lord of glory. Thank God, it is not yet too late to change sides. Tomorrow it may be. If you are on the world’s side against Him today, by believing on God who raised Him from the dead, you may now be justified, and henceforth be found on the Lord’s side, and against the world. Which is it to be? “What think ye of Christ?”

Saul of Tarsus, a most moral and religious man, full of the zeal of God, but blinded by the god of this world, sought to blot out the name of Jesus of Nazareth from the earth, and was exceedingly mad against all who called upon Him. But the devil’s bold champion was changed from a lion into a lamb, the moment a ray of light from the excellent glory pierced his dark heart. Confessing Him Lord, he was henceforth the world-wide herald of his beloved Master, straightway preaching that He was the Son of God, and testing all who heard him with, “What think ye of Christ?”

Such a testimony as this, raised up by the Holy Ghost in the midst of a perishing world, roused the enmity of the wicked one. Satan stirred up his forces, and sought to silence forever the lips of the apostle. Attack upon attack followed more or less wherever he turned.

Arraigned at the bar of the deputy of Achaia, Gallio, a poor reasoning worldling, Paul was about to use the opportunity to test him, and all who heard, as to their thoughts of Christ. But Gallio breaks in upon him before he could speak. Christ or Judaism were all one and the same to him. In his eyes, it was but a question of words, names, and Jewish law; matters in which he would be no judge. Jews, Greeks, and Christians might contend as they pleased. But Gallio cared for none of these things. Alas, poor Gallio where has his utter carelessness landed him now? (Acts 18:12-17.)

And where will your carelessness land you, dear reader? Maybe you are one of those easy-going folk who boast that you don’t make any fuss about your religion, who give each seventh day to the outward observance of the form of godliness, and live for yourself and the world all the week. You assent to the doctrines of current Christianity, but are utterly careless as to the awful fact that you are a lost sinner on the road to the lake of fire, and cannot possibly escape it, and enter glory, without being born again. Christendom contains its tens of thousands of such souls. Awake, awake, ye careless sinners, ere it be too late; you are slumbering and sleeping on the brink of endless woe! Another hour, for aught you know, and you may be found reaping the fruit of your careless folly in an everlasting hell.

Paul, released, and undaunted, renews his attacks upon the citadels of Satan, and challenges all hearts day by day with, “What think ye of Christ?” Fresh trials await him, and ere long he is again before the judgment-seat of the rulers of the world. Felix, the Roman governor of Judaea, is now his judge. This man’s wife was a Jewess, and he was not altogether unacquainted with what Paul testified to.

He appoints a day to hear the prisoner concerning the faith in Christ; and the faithful servant of God, measuring the moral character of his judge, boldly reasons of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come. The poor timeserver, with a guilty conscience (for such he was), trembles as he hears the solemn words of the apostle. “What think ye of Christ?” tests him to the very depths of his soul; but avarice had so long sat enthroned in that poor deluded heart, that there was no room for Christ. “Go thy way for this time,” says he; “when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee.” He hoped also, the narrative continues that money should have been given him by Paul. Many a season occurred after this to hear the same testimony at the prisoner’s lips, but the poor covetous procrastinator never found one convenient to accept Christ. And the solemn history closes by saying that Felix, when removed from his post after two whole years, willing to show the Jews a pleasure, left Paul bound—his last act sin (Acts 24:22-27).

Ah! dear reader, there are many like him today. How is it with you? You probably are not unacquainted with the doctrine of Christ. But what think ye of Him? Are you still procrastinating, still putting off this momentous matter of your soul’s salvation. Are you a poor timeserver and man pleaser like Felix, your heart set upon gold, and no room for Christ? Oh! wake up, wake up to your folly, ere it be too late. Think of God’s wondrous love in the gift of His Son, and ere the day of His abounding grace shall have passed forever, may He give you to think rightly of Him. Without Him, you are lost; die without Him, and you are eternally lost. Accept Him, you are saved, eternally saved. “What think ye of Christ?”

Festus comes into the province in the room of Felix; and in due course Paul is arraigned at the bar of the new-comer. Agrippa the Jewish king, and Bernice, are seated beside the governor. Satan’s power, and man’s spite and hatred in imprisoning the apostle, are overruled in the wondrous ways of God, to give opportunity after opportunity for him to challenge the hearts of the mighty and noble of this world with his great theme. Leave being granted him to speak, he tells of his own career of enmity against Christ, his conversion to God, and the testimony committed to him to bear to the Gentiles. This is too much for Festus. The poor blind idolater neither knew, nor cared to know the Christ of God. A deluded freethinker, in nature’s darkness, and a man pleaser like his predecessor, he breaks in upon the apostle, and with a loud voice exclaims, “Paul, thou art beside thyself, much learning doth make thee mad.” But he said, “I am not mad, most noble Festus; but speak forth the words of truth and soberness.” Mad! Nay, he had come into his right mind. He had been mad, as he himself had said, exceedingly mad against the Christians (Acts 26:11). But now he was in his sober senses. If any one was mad, it was Festus, not Paul. What greater madness than to account the doctrine of Christ as folly! What greater madness when challenged with, “What think ye of Christ?” then, to treat the question as a thing of naught, and to seek to silence the questioner (Acts 26).

Dear reader, again we appeal to you, how are you treating this question? Is it possible, in this land of Bibles, that any reader of these lines can be foolish and mad enough to despise it? We press it upon your conscience, “What think ye of Christ?” Will you bow to Him? Will you accept Him? Will you have Him as your Saviour? “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:26). “Whosoever” must mean you, and therefore you have but to believe on Him, and you shall never, never perish, but everlasting life is yours.

But turning from Festus, Paul, who doubtless had closely watched the effect of his burning words upon his hearers, discerning the uneasiness of Agrippa, continued, “For the king knoweth of these things, before whom also I speak freely: for I am persuaded that none of these things are hidden from him; for this thing was not done in a corner. King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest” (Acts 26:26, 27).

Thus publicly challenged by this pestilent fellow (for such he was in the world’s eyes), he replied to Paul, “Almost [or, in a little] thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” Paul knew his man, and had touched the right chord. He had given a home thrust, which the king felt far more keenly than he liked to confess. His satirical answer covered an uneasy conscience. In his heart of hearts, we think there is but little doubt he would like to have been a Christian. But see what it involved. Think of the effect of the news of the conversion of king Agrippa! One can imagine the thoughts of his heart at such a moment. What would Bernice say? And that infidel idolater Festus, how could he bear his taunts? And the nation too—Jews! —why, he might lose his throne. Well, and what of all that? it would only be a few years of trial at most, and look what he would gain in the future, eternal glory with Christ! Shall he decide; shall he bow to Christ, whom Paul preached? He seemed happy enough, with all his trials. Ah! but how about Caesar? suggests Satan, fearful of losing his victim. Ah! yes, how about Caesar, the Roman Emperor? What would he say when the news reached Rome? It is too much; the cost is too great. Paul has put the case well, but―but―and “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian,” is Agrippa’s reply. Ah! the devil had the mastery. Almost persuaded; almost. Almost persuaded, but lost.

Paul replied, “I would to God, that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost, and altogether such as I am, except these bonds” (26:29). And when he had thus spoken, the king rose up. Mark it well, dear, reader, the king first. The king leads the way; he cannot bear it. He has heard enough; it is too much for him. The king rose up, and the governor Festus, and Bernice, and they that sat with him. How deeply solemn! The whole company were tested at the lips of a despised manacled prisoner, with What think ye of Christ? And the whole unbelieving host refused Him, the king deliberately closing his eyes. How true is the word of the Living God! “Not many mighty, not many noble are called,” &c. (1 Cor. 1:26).

And, dear reader, how many are to be met with on all hands to-day, who like King Agrippa are almost persuaded, but lost. Many would like to have Christ, if it were not for the cost; what it involves. Christ and the world is a gospel that would suit millions; the world now, and heaven hereafter. But, sinner, this you cannot have. You can have the world and hell, if you please; or you can have Christ and heaven; but you cannot have Christ, and the world, and heaven. But oh! if you once receive Christ, and know His worth, the world, so hard to give up in the flesh, will drop off like autumn leaves. The devil whispers that you must give up the world to get Christ. But nay, it is his lie; you must receive Christ, before you can give up the world. And once your heart has received, and is satisfied with Christ, you will soon discover what a worthless bauble the world is; vanity, vanity, utter vanity!

By the wondrous love of God, in His unspeakable gift, by His abounding grace which reigns through righteousness, we beseech you to receive the Saviour now. If you remain like careless Gallio, procrastinating Felix, infidel Festus, or almost persuaded Agrippa, and death overtake you, you are lost forever. Is it the consequences that you fear? Remember the solemn word of Revelation 21:8, which puts the fearful (or cowardly) first on the awful list of those who spend eternity in the lake of fire. Then once again, ere we close, we beg and entreat you, ere it be too late, Come now to Jesus the only Saviour. “What think ye of Christ?”

E. H. C.

"I Don't Feel Right; There's Something Awanting."

SUCH were the words of a dear woman who had long been anxious about her―soul, but had been trying to work herself into a state of fitness for God, by her prayers, tears, and good thoughts. Recent bereavements had torn from her side those nearest and dearest to her,—first her husband, then her only son, a promising young man, the latter very suddenly, leaving her a widow, with an only daughter, a young woman some thirty years of age or nearly so. Laid low herself with paralysis, her sight almost gone, stricken down with grief, she longed for that rest and peace of soul of which she had often heard God’s children speak. One who had often spoken to her, in her palmier days, of the importance of making her “calling and election sure” was sent for, and found mother and daughter both prostrate with sorrow.

Thankful to find them in a frame of mind to listen to God’s message, their Christian friend sought to point out that the question of sin must be first raised before there could be rest and peace known in the soul, and that the mere fact of their being pressed down with grief and trial was no sign of a real genuine sense of sin, in the presence of a holy God. At the same time, feeling the truest sympathy with them in their deep sorrow, he spoke of that blessed Saviour whose tender heart of compassion still yearns over His erring creatures, left in this world of sin and suffering without a ray of hope as to the future of their immortal souls. With a word of prayer, that the Lord would begin a real work in their souls, their friend left them, feeling that, although there seemed a great desire to know the way of rest and peace, yet it was only the over-pressure of circumstances that was troubling them, and not the sense of being sinners unfit for God’s presence. This feeling was confirmed after subsequent visits; but still the word was spoken, in faith, that the Lord would reach them in His own time.

One day, having an hour or two to spare, the Christian already spoken of, G―, decided to pay a promised visit to an invalid Christian. Not being able to find the address, he was prevented from his object, and at once the widow and her daughter came before him; other things were thought of too, but feeling strangely pressed, he decided at once to go, although he had had no intention of going for a week or two at least. As soon as he arrived, the poor woman grasped him by the hand, and said, “Oh! G―, I have been praying for you to come; I looked for you all day on Sunday, but today I felt sure you would be coming. I don’t feel right; there is something awanting; I have prayed night and morning, and tried to think good thoughts, so that the Lord might have mercy on me. I try to believe, but I don’t seem to have the right kind of faith; I do want to be saved. I did so wish you would come, so that I might tell you my difficulties, I thought you would be sure to show me the right way.”

Glad at heart, and struck with the Lord’s tender grace in His haste to meet the anxious one’s deep need, G― spoke of Christ, and His willingness to save, ―His invitation of Matthew 11:28, John 6:37, Revelation 22:17, &c. On quoting from and dwelling a little on John 5:24, the light broke in. In an instant her worried and anxious face changed to an expression of calm peace and tranquility, and her happy soul thus gave expression to its new found joy: “I’m all right now, I’m saved; the Word of God says it, and I believe it.” Turning to her daughter, she said, “Oh! E― dear, I am so glad the Lord has saved me; and now, dear, only trust Him, and you will be saved too. You have nothing to do for salvation; only come as a lost sinner to Jesus. You see how He has saved me, and oh! what a sinner I have been (she had been a most exemplary woman all her life); and now, dear E―, I can see what all our trouble and affliction has been for, it has been to bring us to the Lord; and oh! dear E―, just you decide at once this very night, for I don’t want to go to heaven without you, and I know the Lord will save you if you will only trust Him.”

Before G―left that night, he had the joy of seeing E―also deeply concerned about her soul, and of pointing her to the One who never turned the seeking soul away.

And now, dear reader, whoever you may be, if you are unsaved, it is Jesus you need; and to Him you must come, in all your guilt and misery, or peace, joy, and eternal life can never be yours. But one look to Him, in simple faith, will make you safe for all eternity. G.

The Lawful Captive Delivered.

ONE evening in the autumn I was talking to a friend, on whom I had called, when we were interrupted by the cat, ―a beautiful Persian, ―who had evidently got something he wanted us to see. At last―so importunate was Tom―my friend stooped down and found that he had got a bird, and after some little trouble she succeeded in taking it away from him. It was a pretty little robin, but the cat had used it so cruelly that it was in vain to think of doing anything for its relief. As it lay in her hand, panting, with its broken leg and drooping wing, she said, “What can I do with it?” A neighbor coming to the door heard her speak, and after examining the bird said, “You can’t do anything with it; better let me put it out of its misery,” and suiting the action to the word he wrung its neck. In that little bird, crushed and helpless, I saw a picture of myself when under the power of Satan. Too weak for any effort, powerless to save myself, I must surely have perished forever, had not One who was stronger than my captor come to the rescue. “Shall the prey be taken from the mighty, or the lawful captive delivered?” I was Satan’s lawful captive, for I was a sinner, and we read in John 8:34, “Whosoever committeth sin is the servant [or slave] of sin;” and again, “Of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he brought in bondage” (2 Peter 2:19).

The answer is given to the question propounded in Isaiah 49:24, “Thus saith the Lord, Even the captives of the mighty shall be taken away, and the prey of the terrible shall be delivered: for I will contend with him that contendeth with thee, and I will save thy children” (Isa. 49:25); and it was Jehovah Jesus who bound the “strong man armed,” went right down into Satan’s stronghold, through death destroyed “him that had the power of death, that is the devil” (Heb. 2:14), and ascending up on high “led captivity captive.” “When he ascended up on high, he led captivity captive, and gave gifts to men. Now that he ascended, what is it but that he also descended first into the lower parts of the earth? He that descended is the same also that ascended up far above all heavens, that he might fill all things” (Eph. 4:8, 9, 10. The One who said, “O death, I will be thy plagues; O grave, I will be thy destruction” (Hos. 13:14), who “hath abolished death” (2 Tim. 1:10), and “spoiled principalities and powers” (Col. 2:15), is the One who has set me free.

Reader, are you free? If you are still in the strong man’s house, I would urge you to flee from it now. The Lord Jesus Christ has bound the strong man armed, and you may go free if you will. He who has “the keys of hell and of death’’ (Rev. 1:18) is for you. Poor sinner, escape while you may.

You who are sinking “in darkness and in the shadow of death,” there is light and deliverance for you. Oh, turn to the One to whom the Lord Jehovah could say, “In an acceptable time have I heard thee, and in a day of salvation have I helped thee,... that thou mayest say to the prisoners, Go forth; to them that are in darkness, Show yourselves” (Isa. 49:8, 9). The apostle Paul, quoting the above passage of Scripture, winds up with “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation” (2 Cor. 6:2).

Do you wish to know the way to flee? The Lord Jesus says, “I am the way” (John 14:6). Do you say, “How am I to be made free from the power of Satan?” By faith in Christ, who, speaking to Paul from the glory, tells him that He is sending him to the Gentiles, “To open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me” (Acts 26:18).

When He was upon this earth, He went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil” (Acts 10:38). Poor weary one, so oppressed, hear His loving tender words,” Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28).

His heart is as full of love now as then. He is speaking to you now from the glory, and saying, “Come unto me.”

He might have gone back to the glory without dying, for death had no claim upon Him. He was the Holy Sinless One, but His holy spotless life alone would have left man where he was, or more hopelessly desperate; for He who was Light showed up the awful blackness of man’s heart. No; it must be through death, for man is sunk in sin, and “the wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6:23). He received the wages due to poor sinners; He died “the just for the unjust” (1 Peter 3:18). He came where we were. He, the Lord of life and glory, stooped to “Calvary’s depth of woe,” to reach those who were bound in Satan’s prison-house; and now, on the ground of His own most precious blood, He is proclaiming “liberty to the captive” (Isa. 61:1). Oh! hear His voice, dear reader, “If the Son, therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed” (John 8:36).

Religion or Christ.

WILLIE has brought a bonnie wife home, with winsome ways and a loving heart, but I’m wondering all the time if she knows the Lord Jesus Himself, father.”

“Well, wife, I am hoping so. It may not be just her way to talk out about Him, as you and I do; you see we have grown used to His company. He has made the third in all our plans ever since Jamie died, and Willie was a baby, and that is well-nigh six-and-twenty years now, before she was born. But I’m thinking she must care about Him, for I found her reading His Word today, or a book that looked just like it.”

“Ay, a book that looked just like it,” the mother said in a low tone, with a sigh; then speaking out again, she added more cheerily, “Well, father, we will just tell Himself all our hopes and fears, and ask Him to make her coming a blessing to herself and to us all; and when He has the matter left in His own hands we can wait and trust Him;” and the pious old couple turned together into the little chamber, in which for many a long year they had been accustomed to pour out their hearts to the One who was to them, not merely their Saviour and their God, but their known and tried personal Friend, and the confidant of all their joys and sorrows, as well as the One in whose presence they enjoyed to sit, when they had neither joys nor sorrows to tell Him of, but because they loved His company.

This was the hallowed home into which Willie; their only remaining son, had brought, his young wife on a visit, and to introduce her to his parents. She was a professing Christian, they were possessing Christians; and she had not been many hours in the house before the godly old mother, who took her to her heart from the moment she saw, her, discovered that in spite of what was naturally-very lovable, and in spite also of what was outwardly very religious, there was something lacking, and that something she too truly felt was the personal knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ.

The discovery was a sorrowful one to Willie’s mother, and she had poured forth her heart to, the only One who could help her are she spoke of it to her husband even. When Willie had written from, London some months before, to tell his parents in the north of his approaching marriage, he had described his Alice as one not merely naturally bright and attractive, but as one who loved the Lord, and was devoted to His service; and the old couple had rejoiced in the thought of her being a real helper of his faith, and had longed for the time when they should see her, and mingle their prayers and praises together. Now she had come, they had found her all they could wish, save on the point where their wishes were deepest.

Not that Alice had been a hypocrite; she had been a diligent Sunday school teacher, her class was always the most orderly in the school, and her scholars the most visited in their homes by their teacher. She was interested in missionary work, abroad and at home. She visited among the sick, and read the Bible, and prayers from a book, to them; she was an active member of the Dorcas meeting, and was thought by everyone, what Willie thought her, a truly earnest Christian. Nay, more, she herself believed she was this.

Sometimes after their marriage Willie puzzled her, when he spoke of conversion as of a something that had passed between his soul and God, of which she felt she knew nothing. There were moments when his prayers made her uncomfortable; there seemed to her to be something in them which was beyond her, a real link with One unseen, quite different from what she felt as, day by day, she read over some prayers, read them reverently too, though oftentimes not really wanting the petitions asked in them.

Alice was no Pharisee, she did not pride herself in her works or her religious duties, she was simply satisfied with them; she was amiable, and liked serving others, so she worked, and she thought God demanded it of her, so she went through forms and ceremonies. The question of sin had never been raised between her soul and God, so she knew nothing of substitution, she had never found out she was lost, and therefore she knew no need of a SAVIOUR, who must be her own personal Saviour though of course she talked of “our Saviour” in a general way.

She soon discovered that there was a difference between her new relations and herself, and one day said to her husband, “I do not understand your parents’ religion, though I love them dearly. It makes me uncomfortable. They speak of our Saviour as though He were a third person in the room with them, at meals, every time; it often makes me shiver. It is as though they had only their bodies down here, and their thoughts and hopes and joys were far off.” Even then he did not discern that his wife’s was only an outward performance of duties, and no living link with a Person, and he answered, “Yes, truly, Alice, the Lord is no God afar off to my parents, and they love to speak to Him, and of Him. I think, maybe, we have been too much occupied with our work for Him, and perhaps, too, with the earthly joy He has given us, and too little with the Giver. It will help us both being here.”

Alice was silent; she felt she did not understand, there seemed to be a something separating her from the husband by her side, and everything looked chill and dark. He had been showing her some parts of his beautiful native city, and speaking of the days when men, and women too, had counted the privilege of reading God’s Word in their own language as dearer to them than their lives. “Let us turn back,” she said presently, “I feel strangely tired.”

That night there were touching sounds of joy and sorrow in Willie’s old home. A young life was given, but the mother lay at the gates of the grave. They watched her tenderly, and prayer went up continually, the husband pleading, though submissively, for natural life; but his parents’ pleadings were deeper, they asked that she might know Jesus, whom to know is life eternal. Day and night their cry went up: “Take her not away, Lord, till Thou hast revealed Thyself to her.” She was too ill to be spoken to, but they knew well that the shortest way to her heart was round by heaven.

Days, even weeks, went by, and she hovered between life and death. Then came a slight rallying, which very slowly increased. She had moaned continually, “I cannot die, I cannot die;” else, of what was passing in her soul they knew nothing.

The first day she could speak again, she said to her mother, “Read―me―a―prayer―from―my―little―book, ―mother.” But the mother said gently, “We will tell Him ourselves just what we want, dear child,” and by the sick bed the aged believer poured forth in few and simple words her heart’s desire, a knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ Himself for that poor sick and weary one.

Her daughter-in-law lay with closed eyes as she ended, and she left her request with God.

After this, most days she read a verse or two, as she was able to bear it, to her, never wearying her, never going into explanations or long talking’s, but just leaving the Word of God to do its own work.

Then came the parting between husband and wife; he was obliged to return to his occupation, having already had his holiday more than once extended, and she, though out of immediate danger, was far too ill to travel, or even to leave her bed. She told me long afterward, it was with feelings little short of despair she said “Good-bye,” for she had then no hope for this world or the next; and when he said, “The Lord who loves us both will care for you; and we have the joy of knowing for certain that our eternity is to be together with Him,” she would not distress him by acknowledging she had not this joyful assurance, she only hid her head in the bedclothes and wept.

Meantime the aged believers spoke to the Lord, and in confidence expected His answer, and waited for it. Three weeks more passed, and then the Lord took the little one to Himself. Alice’s grief was terrible. She had been lifted into the adjoining room, to be present while the Word of God was read, and prayer offered, ere the little coffin, with the precious remains of her babe, was carried from the house. When all had gone, and she was left alone with her mother-in-law, her reserve gave way, and putting her head on her shoulder she said, “Mother, you will be with Jesus, and Willie, and my baby boy, but I shall be outside. Mother, I am lost.” Very quiet was the answer, “I know it, my child, but Jesus came to seek and to save the lost. He has been seeking, seeking you for long, now let Him save you.”

“But you do not know, mother, how my life has been all a sham. I have professed to teach others what I did not know myself. I have been at His table, and I did not know Him; have I not eaten and drunk damnation to myself?”

“Eternal damnation only follows the final rejection of Christ, the only Saviour; the apostle is speaking there of judgment and chastening now. I am not denying the sin, my child, of being there with a lie in one’s mouth, professing to remember One whom we never knew, but sin now cannot shut you out from the Saviour. He says, ‘I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.’”

“But, mother, I do not know Him, and I cannot see Him; I cannot live like this, and I do not know how to die; how can I know Him? Oh, if I had lived in the days when He was on earth, I would have crawled to His feet, though I had died there.”

The mother lifted up her heart to the Lord to teach this troubled soul Himself; then she said, “But, my child, you need take no toilsome journey to His blessed feet now, He is here in this room listening, waiting for you to accept what He offers, pardon, salvation, peace, and Himself. ‘Look unto me and be ye saved,’ He says; and, ‘Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.’ It is not He who needs to be entreated to draw near to you. The Apostle Paul says, ‘We pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God.’

“Oh, if I could hear Him say He forgives me and that He would have me!”

“He speaks now by His Word, my child, and He says, ‘Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.’ He has purchased the right to say this to you, at the cost of His own life’s blood. His death is the price at which you can have life; but the price has been paid, the ransom has been accepted. The sinner’s Substitute has risen from the dead, and made a ‘new and living way’ for you and me right home to God.”

“Mother, pray,” was all Alice answered. And the mother “went and told Jesus” all their wants.

After a time of quiet Alice spoke again, “Mother, I see; my sham life, my religiousness, my dead works, my hollow prayers, all met by the cross, ―all known to Him when He gave His life; I see God is satisfied, He wants nothing from me; I may rest in His arms.”

When the father returned, after committing to the dust the babe so loved, Alice was sleeping almost as peacefully as that babe, though the teardrops still stood upon her cheek. Truly that day the Lord turned the house of mourning into one of praise.

It was months ere she was able to travel, and return with her husband to her London home. In them she learned much of the Lord Himself. From her own lips, many years after, I heard her story, told to me with many a detail not given here, as well as much that passed in her soul of deep dark agony, as she faced death for herself, and then again in what she loved better than herself. But out of death God brought life.

When I knew her first the aged saints had gone to the Lord they so loved, and Alice with her husband and three children were all looking for the moment when the Lord Himself shall, return, and them that sleep in Jesus God will bring with Him, for “yet a little while, and he that shall come will come, and will not tarry.” So that today, dear unsaved reader, “today, if ye will hear his voice, harden not your heart;” for “now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” X.

The Doom of Christendom

The way of Escape from its Impending Judgment.

DEAR reader, we are in the last moments of the history of Christendom, which is about to be cut off for not continuing in God’s goodness; and the blindness now settled on Israel as a nation, because of the veil on their hearts, shall, on turning to the Lord, in mercy be removed; for Jesus, their once rejected and crucified Messiah, shall shortly appear as their Deliverer, and shall turn away ungodliness from Jacob.

The more you read your Bible, the more you will be convinced, if you are subject to the Holy Spirit’s teaching, that we are on the threshold of this most startling event, ―not a bit less serious and awful than the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and the cities around them.

Knowing, therefore, the terror of the Lord, and that judgment must begin at the house of God (for Christendom is the house of God, undoubtedly, not Judaism or Heathenism), let me freely speak to you of a present and eternal salvation from this wrath to come, through faith in the person and finished work of the Lord Jesus Christ, raised up from among the dead by the glory of the Father, and now seated for nearly nineteen hundred years in brightest majesty on His throne; for Jesus is not yet seated on His own throne, but His Father’s.

Dear friend, let me persuade you of this divine fact, that He is there still as the Amen, the Faithful and True Witness, the Beginning of the Creation of God, in that bright glory which He had, along with His Father, before the world via God gives eternal life, remission of sins, and the knowledge of salvation to everyone who shall confess with the mouth Jesus as Lord, and shall believe in their heart that God has raised Him from the dead. Do not, therefore, despise this glorious gospel of God’s grace, because it is presented for your acceptance on the principle of faith.

The second chapter of Ephesians, with many other scriptures, declares unmistakably that it is not by works, lest any man should boast; and may God, who is rich in mercy, open your eyes to see, your ears to hear, and your heart to receive, in the simplicity of a little child, this great salvation; for it is, in deed and in truth, a Great Salvation!

Believing it, you shall know and have the joy of it as a fountain of water in you springing up into everlasting life. Oh! rest confidingly in the Word as written in Romans 10, that it is “with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.” For the scripture saith, no one believing on Him shall be ashamed. For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek (in other words, religious or irreligious people); “for, the same Lord over all is rich towards all that call upon him. For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

Give heed, then, dear reader, and hearken, for your soul’s present and eternal blessing, to the precious truth of God’s Word, concerning His dear Son, and what He has done. Heed not the traditions of men, telling you of what you have to do, for you can do nothing but perish in your sins. Remember that faith alone in the precious blood of Christ cleanseth from all sins; and, that it is on the principle of faith that the believing sinner appropriates what God in His goodness has provided, viz., salvation from the wrath to come.

The Apostle John says: “Herein has love been perfected with us, that we may have boldness in the day of judgment; because as he is, so are we in this world.”

The Apostle Paul also, in writing to Timothy (for the gospel in his day was beginning to be corrupted by Judaistic teaching and other things which perverse men had in their religiousness mixed with God’s precious grace), says: “God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. Be not thou therefore ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, nor of me his prisoner: but be thou partaker of the affliction of the gospel, according to the power of God; who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world begin, but is now made manifest by the appearing of our Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath annulled death, and brought to light [out of the types and shadows of Old Testament Scriptures] life and incorruptibility by the gospel.”

Let me also cite, dear reader, the testimony of one, in this century, who fought the good fight of faith in the midst of much opposition of those who sought to uphold the traditions of men, and who has fulfilled his course, with thousands of others, though dead, yet speaking: ―

“Bold shall I stand in that great day,

For who aught to my charge shall lay,

While Jesus’ blood, through earth and skies,

Mercy, free, boundless mercy, cries!”

May you too, dear unconverted, reader, be now led to believe this glorious gospel of the Blessed God. May you be counted worthy to be among that blessed number who, before the day of God’s coming wrath, and manifested glory of the Lord Jesus Christ, shall confess Him in life, your living, loving Saviour and Lord; and then, in holy boldness and divine courage, may you go forth to Him without the camp of professing Christendom (about to be spued out of Christ’s mouth, and judged like Babylon of old). Oh, believe that Jesus suffered without the gate, the Just, for you the unjust, that He might bring you to God.

The blessed Spirit of love, in His rich converting grace, make you willing, ere it be too late, in this day of God’s present favor to all the world. It is still the accepted time and day of salvation. Be a simple receiver at the pierced hands of Jesus. Once nailed to that shameful tree of Calvary, He is now in brightest glory waiting for, and bidding you to take as a gift from Himself eternal life, ―a life, indeed, with new desires, new hopes and expectations, with a new destiny of glory with Himself in the heavens, yea, the Paradise of God, and every blessing for time and eternity!

Remember, friend and brother, that presently the door of His mercy will be closed. In Matthew 25 it is said concerning the foolish virgins, that while they went to buy the needed oil, ―for their lamps had gone out, ―that the Bridegroom came; and the wise virgins (simple, yet true believers―wisdom’s children) went in with Him to the, marriage, and the door was shut.

Blessed, I need not say, for the one; but oh! how solemn for the other! May it not be your lot, reader, to be one of those to be shut out, and to whom the Lord will say, “I know you not!”

Soon―the Lord knows how soon! ―the door of His mercy will be closed on rejected Christendom for not continuing in God’s goodness (Rev. 3:16); yea, upon all neglecters, despisers, and refusers of this great salvation. Then, in the agony of remorse and despair, when too late, they shall call on Him, but He will not answer. They shall seek Him early, but shall not find Him; but, given over to believe what is false, they shall be judged, yea, eternally judged, because the love of the truth was not received by them that they might be saved, and because they believed it not.

God grant that the reading of this paper may prove to you, dear reader, a life-word, and not a death-word. In Revelation 21 The blessed promise of the living glorified Saviour is, to soul-thirsty ones, “I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely. He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son.”

“Haste, traveler, haste! the night comes on,

And many a shining hour is gone;

The storm is gathering in the west,

And thou art far from home and rest.

Haste, traveler, haste!”

H. P.

"All About Christ."

I WAS told by a servant of the Lord, that on a certain occasion when he was preaching the gospel in a foreign city, he had for one of his auditors a brother of his own, who had preceded him to that part of the world in order to push his fortunes there. This brother was at that time an unconverted man, and was therefore an object of much solicitude to the preacher.

The subject that evening was the well-known story of “Legion,” out of whom the Lord cast thousands of devils; and thus accomplished, by a word of power, for this poor child of sorrow that which “no man” could do for him.

The miracle is a beautiful sample of the gracious power of the Lord Jesus, ―gracious, because it was not only unsolicited, but met by such repelling words as, “What have I to do with thee? I beseech thee that thou torment me not.” Yet—just as grace always acts—freely, and without looking for an exciting cause on the part of its object, so the Master took this case in hand; and, spite of all that opposed itself to Him, He thoroughly cured the man, and did so in a way, so winning, that Legion “prayed him that he might be with him,”―saying, as it were, “Master, I cannot leave Thee; I will follow Thee. I who, but a moment ago, dreaded Thee, and declared, that I had nothing to do with Thee, knowing that I deserved the torment from which I prayed Thee to keep me, ―yes, I, now dispossessed of my two thousand tormentors, and freed of my chains and fetters, and invested with a right mind, and clothed, and brought in peace to Thy feet, I would ever be in Thy company. I have heard the music of Thy voice, felt the power of Thy hand, proved the love of Thy bosom; and now Thou, who art my all, I would walk by Thy side, share Thy sorrows, welcome Thy smile, know Thy heart, and be with Thee forever.”

Such is Legion now! How changed; how completely renewed! How absolutely different in appearance, in conduct, in mind, in heart! A beautiful sample, indeed, of an out-and-out conversion! ―marked and exceptional, perhaps, but, though grand in degree, a fair illustration of all who are brought from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive the forgiveness of sins, and an inheritance among them that are sanctified.

But, my reader, have you been delivered from that power? Have you received the forgiveness of your sins? Have you a title to that blessed inheritance? If not, pray think of your own chains and fetters, and guilt and poverty, and turn be the Lord for Yourself.

Well, at the close of the meeting in that distant city, the auditor informed his brother that the word preached had been blessed to his conversion, declaring that the gospel he had just heard was “all about Christ.”

It was evidently something wholly new to this newly born soul that, as he said, the gospel was “all about Christ.” He had thought before that the gospel was about man, ―what man should Jo, and what man should be: Many of us had similar ideas, before grace opened our eyes to the truth. We mistook the gospel for the law, or had the supposition that the gospel was the law spiritualized and made infinitely more difficult. A grand mistake indeed! But then the thoughts of an unrenewed heart are necessarily wrong. Saul of Tarsus thought that he should do many things contrary to the name of Jesus; but he thought wrongly, as he afterward discovered when converted to God.

You may as well expect a blind man to appreciate colors, or a deaf man the strains of music, as an unconverted soul to understand the gospel. This may appear strong, but it is nevertheless time. Neither school, nor college, nor university, ―neither learning, nor labor, nor law can give the soul a divine knowledge of that gospel which it is God’s sole prerogative to communicate. But if the gospel be not about man, then of whom or what does it treat?

Let me quote one memorable sentence from the pen of the Gentile apostle: ― “The gospel of God, concerning his Son Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom. 1:1-3).

This it is that gives its peculiar charm to the gospel, ―it is “all about Christ.”

True, it may have much to say as to the sinner, much as to the saint; but the theme and glorious subject-matter of the gospel is the Son of God. He is the center and sun of its marvelous system: Oh! how little, after all, can be said of man! How blotted is his history! “In his best estate he is altogether vanity,” and what is he in his Worst?

But how much may be said of Christ. The world itself could not contain the books that might be Written about Him.

When Saul was converted, the very first thing he did was to preach in the synagogue that Jesus was the Son of God. That was, his keynote, struck in Damascus, continued in its thrilling harmonies through all his wanderings, and placed as the highest; deepest, richest point of attainment in all Christian knowledge, “till we all come to the knowledge of the Son of God.” Now, the gospel bailor its object the salvation of sinners,―not their moral improvement, nor reformation, but salvation born? their fallen condition, and their being brought to God as a new creation (a total change, of life following inevitably), in order to form the Body and Bride of Christ, who suffered all for their sakes; so that He is, glorified, adored, and worshipped by countless hosts who owe to Hite the praise of their salvation. Precious gospel! How full of dignity! how divine its source! how lovely its theme! how grand its results!

It is “all about Christ,” all about the blessed One who became a man in order to die; who lived for the glory of God; who died for the glory of God; who was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father; who when on earth, as man, made the Father known; whose glory was seen―the Word made flesh―full of grace and truth; to whom came multitudes of the needy, diseased, famished, and sinful, only to go away blest; from whose lips fell words of truth unknown before, for he was the Truth, so that man got to understand and to know God as thus revealed.

But He died, and that the Just for the unjust, “that he might bring us to God.” His word of welcome is whispered into the ear, “Come.” His blood is the full price of redemption, and it “cleanseth from all sin.”

His written and printed record declares that the believer is now saved, and that he has eternal life.

What a gospel! What a Saviour! Wondrous was the grace that won its way into the repulsive, hostile, and unhappy heart of poor Legion, and that attracted him by a spell so omnipotent! But the self-same grace wins similar conquests today, and binds by a fascination no less potent the heart that yields to its charms.

A heart thus won is best qualified to go home and tell what great things the Lord hath done for it. For love is the greatest motive power in the universe, and Christ’s love constrains when all other influences have become inoperative. Hence, Legion went to Decapolis (meaning “ten cities”) and told these great things there: His home circle of testimony extended to Decapolis, and he told his conversion by the best of all means, ―his sermon wee himself; he was the exponent of the power of Christ. His testimony was certainly “all about Christ.” Such is the gospel J. W. S.

THREE wonderful things are written of Christ in relation to sin: ―

1. “Who knew no sin” (2 Cor. 5:21). He was absolutely sinless. His nature, in its spring and essence, was devoid of sin. He was the “holy one of God.” Not only did the Spirit affirm (Luke 1:35) and demons confess this (Luke 4:34), but Pilate was fain to say, “I have found no fault in this man” (Luke 23:14). Heaven, earth, and hell alike confessed His intrinsic purity.

2. “Who did no sin” (1 Peter 2:22). Every thought of His heart, word of His lip, and deed of His life was fit for God. The Father acknowledged it, “Thou art my beloved Son; in thee I am well pleased” (Luke 4:22). Jesus knew it and said, “I do always those things that please him” (John 8:29). The dying thief was in the mind of God when he said, “This man hath done nothing amiss” (Luke 23:41). He, as it were, says to his neighbor, “You and I never did a right thing, this man never did a wrong one.” What a contrast between man and Christ, and then’ what a marvel that―

3. God “made him to be sin” (2 Cor. 5:21). Being a sinless man He could become the bearer of the sins of sinners. Nay, more, He was “made sin” that He might put it away. Wondrous Redeemer! Glorious redemption! W. T. P. W.

The Gravedigger.

IT was a fine winter afternoon, and we found ourselves approaching the cemetery of a small town in the West of England. The stillness of the scene, the bright sunset, and the large increase of gravestones, as well as the remembrance of former visits, made the moment peculiarly solemn. In one part lay the mortal remains of a beloved brother and servant of the Lord, whose Christian fellowship we had valued for well nigh a quarter of a century. Nor is it possible to forget the many happy seasons of prayer and ministry of the word we had so often enjoyed together. It had been our sweet privilege to be with him in his last days, till he departed to be with Christ; so that we only think of him now as “absent from the body, and present with the Lord.” A block of white marble, on which the name and year of his departure were placed, marks the spot where we had deposited the body, with only the additional words on the stone, “Till He come.”

The kind gravedigger, who had seen me enter the cemetery, was soon at our side, and, conjecturing what our errand might be, quickly pointed out the best path toward the grave. The man had been known to the writer for many years, for often it happened, when we visited that part of England, we had to attend a funeral of one or another of God’s dear people. We had known him too as one who loved the Lord Jesus Christ, but had never found him so communicative as then. Like many others, he would reply to a question, but seldom said more about the things which concern our Lord Jesus; but he was now evidently full of joy and gladness in the Lord.

During the few moments we were together, the substance of what passed between us was pretty much as follows: ―

“You know, sir,” said he, “though I had been a true believer on the Lord Jesus Christ for thirty years, I always felt sure there was something that I lacked, because I was so tossed about with doubts and fears; but the evening before last Good Friday I determined to give myself to earnest prayer to God about it. For nearly all the night I was calling upon God, and ever since that time I have been so happy that I seem to have Christ always before me and with me. In fact, my whole soul is so full of Christ, that I must speak for Him. I cannot help pointing others to the Saviour. I cannot now be silent; I must tell them about the Lord Jesus Christ. You know, sir, we get a plenty of visitors here.... Among others,” he said, “a lady came the other day to see the spot where the dreadful murderer was buried. I said, ‘There, madam, is the spot where his body lies.’ ‘And what do you think,’ said the lady, ‘has become of him?’ fear, mem, he is in hell.’ ‘How dreadful,’ said she. ‘And how is it with you, mem? if you were to die, where will your soul be?’ ‘I do not know,’ said she. ‘Then I will tell you, mesa, that God’s Word says that “all the nations that forget God will be turned into hell.’”

There was much more that passed at this solemn interview in the cemetery of a similar strain, which showed how much his heart was taken up with the Lord Jesus Christ, and that he had a liberty and joy which few now know, because he had been in the path and power of the Spirit of God.

On bidding this Christian gravedigger farewell, and greeting him as a beloved brother in Christ we had many happy thoughts, and some solemn and not unprofitable reflections.

First, we could not but feel greatly comforted and rejoiced at the remarkable way in which God’s blessing had reached the soul of this humble follower of Christ; and then the question occupied us, as to why believers generally were not as full of Christ, and as earnest and warm in their testimony for Him, as this gravedigger.

With regard to the first point, few seem to be aware how much our state of soul and walk affect other Christians. Still the fact remains the same. We are comforted and encouraged by the “faith” of others, and no doubt we are damaged in soul by carnal and unbelieving communications. The apostle in writing to the believers at Rome said, “that I may be comforted together with you by the mutual faith of you and me;” and he warns others against the corrupting influence of “evil communications” (Rom; 1:12; 1 Cor. 15:33). It is not only true, then, that Christians, if in a carnal and worldly state of soul, are not happy themselves, but that their influence tends to lower and damage other children of God with whom they come in contact. And who has not noticed the blessed effect of only a few minutes intercourse with those who are “walking in the fear of the Lord, and in the comfort of the Holy Ghost?” As members of one body, it is impossible to be walking in the Spirit in subjection to Christ the Head, without the whole body being edified or influenced for good; or to be grieving or quenching the Spirit of God, without damage to the other members of the “one body.” “Whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honored, all the members rejoice with it” (1 Cor. 12:26). This is a divine principle, which we cannot too much lay to heart.

Then as to the next question, Why believers generally are not so full of Christ as this gravedigger? many a Christian reader will anticipate the answer. We should never forget, though we are really “the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus,” and the Spirit can say to us through the Word, “Now ye are mine through the word that I have spoken unto you,” yet it is impossible that even such can bear fruit to the glory of the Father apart from communion with our Lord Jesus, for He says to us, “Without me ye can do nothing.” It is well when the soul of a believer habitually realizes his entire dependence on the Lord Jesus not only for eternal blessings, but for what he needs for every step of the wilderness journey. With such, neither self-righteousness, self-confidence, nor self-seeking, have any place. But this is only negative, for it tells us we can do nothing without the Lord Jesus. He certainly is our whole resource, as wet sometimes sing―

“Our whole resource along the road, ―

Nothing but Christ, the Christ of God.”

But knowing this, blessed as it is, is not enough. It is personally having to do with the glorified! Son of Man, learning of Him, receiving from Him, communion with Him, which is the secret both of personal enjoyment and personal devotedness. It is not here a question of knowledge, but of communion. It is more also than prayer; it is enjoyed communion, with the Lord. And it is fatal to the well-being of our souls to put knowledge or anything else in the place of communion. This is by no means an uncommon wile of Satan in these last days. Our Lord said, “If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink.” It is then our coming to our Lord Jesus Christ, and drinking in what He gives. It is receiving from Himself His own word in faith, meditating on it, digesting it as it were; enjoying its comforting, nourishing, sustaining qualities in our own souls. Observe, it is not the word reaching merely the mind, and having the head crammed full of doctrines (important as intelligence is in its place), but it is the soul tasting that the Lord is gracious, drinking in the sincere milk of the Word, ―eating the little book, as it were, though sweet as honey in the mouth yet making the belly bitter. And what then? living waters flow out; a living testimony flows from such for the glory of God, and blessing to those around, ― a deep heartfelt ministry of Christ, according to the gift and grace received, coming from us, not in a scanty stream, or an occasional drop, but in RIVERS of testimony to Christ. “Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.” Yes, it shall be so, for He said, “Out of his belly SHALL flow rivers of living water.” May the reality of our blessings be more widely and constantly enjoyed is our heart’s desire and prayer; believers then would not be hanging down their heads as bulrushes, but rejoicing in the Lord, and making melody in their heart to the Lord.

H. H. S.

O Lord God, what is so needful as this? Salvation, salvation! Fly upon this condemned and foolish world, that would give so little for salvation! O, if there were a free market of salvation proclaimed in that day when the trumpet of God shall awake the dead, how many buyers would be there? God send you no more happiness but that salvation which the blind world (to their eternal woe) letteth slip through their fingers!”

SAMUEL RUTHERFORD.

"Watch and Pray."

[Tune― “ST AELRED.”]

THE tempest thickens overhead;

Men’s hearts are chill with gloom and dread;

What hath the Lord, our Saviour, said? “Watch and pray.”

Temptation everywhere is found;

We tread polluted, blood-stained ground;

Beset with perils all around; ― “Watch and pray.”

He whose by right is all the earth

Was here rejected from His birth;

Without Him, ‘tis perpetual dearth:

“Watch and pray.”

Can God in heaven the cross ignore?

Can man transgressions cover o’er?

All hope, but by the Blood, is o’er: ―

“Watch and pray.”

Christ for our sins, saith Scripture, died;

From Him His God His face did hide;

The Roman soldier pierced His side; ―

“Watch and pray.”

The Blood and Water instant came

From Him who took the sinners’ shame;

Eternal Life is in His name; ― “Watch and pray.”

The Lord was buried in the tomb

Earth found for Him none other room;

He rose the third day, ―broke its gloom;

“Watch and pray.”

From heaven He will come again,

He who by wicked hands was slain,

“The Living One,”―and He must reign; ―

“Watch and pray.”

His foes shall all be ‘neath His feet;

His friends He will with glory greet

In Him God’s pleasure is complete; ―

“Watch and pray.”

Rejoice! The Father loves the Son;

“His work” by Him hath all been done;

The songs of heaven are begun! ―

“Watch and pray.”

"Be Ye Therefore Ready Also."

“Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him. Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out. But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not. Watch therefore; for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of men cometh.”— Matthew 25:1-13.

THERE is one simple point I want to press on you, my reader, one thought I have before me, and it is this, That if you are not ready when Jesus comes, He will bid you depart into everlasting punishment; if you are not ready, there is nothing before you but eternal woe―eternal punishment.

“They that were ready went in,” those that were not ready were outside. There is nothing more simple, dear friend, but there is nothing more solemn. “They that were ready went in;” and oh, if the Lord came just now, what joy it would be to our hearts who know Him! The voice of the archangel and the trump of God would be heard, and His own voice, the voice of the Saviour, would bid us rise up to meet Him. We should be caught up to scenes of joy and rest with Jesus. But, my friend, are you ready? ready to meet Jesus, ready for that trumpet’s call, ready to go in? “No,” you say, “I am not.” Then do not lose a moment, I entreat you, “be ye also ready,” be ready now.

God wants to have you as the companion of His Son for all eternity. He is seeking a bride for His Son, just as Eleazer goes down through the desert, and tells Rebecca, of all Abraham’s wealth and greatness, and that unto his son he had given all that he had. “That is,” says he, “there is a bridegroom in a far-off land, and I want a bride for him, I want a heart that is prepared to go out to meet him.” So God is seeking now hearts prepared to go out to meet the returning Lord.

There was a going forth in early times. In the apostles’ days there was a constant expecting the Lord’s return; but then wise and foolish all settled down and went to sleep. The wise were wrong in going to sleep; but there was this difference between them, that when the cry was made, “Behold, the bridegroom cometh,” the lamps of the wise were alight; they needed trimming, but there was oil in them, they had never gone out. I have no doubt the Lord is gathering out a people now to wait for His Son, and one day, when the world is expecting nothing, without any warning, He will come. He will come, and we who trust Him shall go up to meet Him, and the door will be shut. “They that were ready went in with him to the marriage.”

God shows the bright side first, the joy of the marriage. “I desire,” He, as it were, says, “to make you the companion of My Son in heavenly glory. My heart’s wish is that you shall share with Christ that bright scene of eternal blessedness.” “No,” answers the world-loving soul. “Then,” says He, “you must share the fate of the devil and his angels; there is no alternative.”

Soul, listen, listen! You must be with Christ for eternity; you must share with Him that bright scene of glory, or you must share for all eternity the fallen gloomy fortunes of Satan. Which is it to be? Soul, make your choice, your eternal choice. With Christ, or with Satan—which?

“Oh,” you say, “I should like to be with Christ, of course; I have long made a profession of Christianity.” Yes, but are you really a Christian? Are you ready? Profession is not enough; it is the lamp without the oil in it. Who are those who had the oil? They are those who had given their souls no rest till they had the certainty of salvation. The oil in the vessels is the Holy Ghost. They had not only “heard the word of truth, the gospel of salvation,” and trusted in the Lord Jesus, but, as Paul tells us in Ephesians 1:13, they were “sealed with that Holy Spirit of promise.”

Many souls are stumbled because of this; they think they have to possess the Holy Ghost in order to believe. Not so; you believe, and then you get the Holy Ghost. It is like a man buying a number of sheep, and then marking them as his own. God buys with the blood of Christ, and marks with the Holy Ghost. The wise virgins had the oil, and if you are in earnest you will not be content without knowing you are saved; and surely it is high time you were in downright earnest. God is in earnest in His desire to have you; the devil is in earnest in his desire to damn you; I am in earnest in my anxiety to see you brought to God. You are the only one who is careless in the matter, and it is your soul which is at stake for eternity. O, ye heavens, look down on this awful sight, ―a sinner unconcerned about his eternal salvation! God was so concerned, as to send His only Son that you might not perish. The Lord Jesus was so concerned, that He came, and suffered, and died, ―the Just for the unjust. The evangelist is deeply concerned, that you may be converted. The devil is thoroughly concerned, to seek to hinder your coming to Christ. You only are unconcerned about the matter! Appalling spectacle! an unsaved sinner on the verge of hell, totally unconcerned!

Oh, dear soul, the day of your concern is coming. What concern there will be when you wake up to find there is no oil in your lamp; what earnestness, what terrible earnestness, will be depicted on your face as outside the door you stand! “Too late!” says God. “Too LATE!” exclaim you. “TOO LATE!” will be the echo of the arches of heaven, resounding through earth, as then you cry, “Lord! Lord! open to me!”

Oh, be in earnest now. The Lord would have you roused to your state, ―you may never have another opportunity. Can you risk being among that number who are refused from His door, or hear those awful words, “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire? “This is no imagery of mine. These are the Lord’s own words, most solemnly true. If you are not the Lord’s, you must be damned. If you are not linked with Christ, you must be lost. If you are not His by living faith now, there is nothing before you but these two solemn things, then to knock, too late, outside that door, and to hear from His lips, “Depart from me.” I have no doubt from Scripture, that if the Lord comes and finds you unconverted, your history is over; the door will be shut, and not a solitary ray of hope will ever again fall on your benighted soul, ―the door will be closed forever. Now ONLY is your time, ―oh, be in earnest NOW.

I believe the Lord is separating His own more thoroughly now. The Lord’s people are banding together more, the world and the faithful are beginning to separate more and more even now; and much of worldliness as there is among the saints of God, yet the line of demarcation between them and the world is more distinct. What a tide of blessing too has rolled over the land; what means it all? He is coming! He is coming! coming “quickly” too. Are you merely a professor carrying the lamp in your hand? You must have the oil too. Have you ever known what it is to be broken down under a sense of your sin? Have you ever been in earnest about your soul’s salvation? Have you ever bowed in heart to Jesus? Have you ever been really converted? Are you ready to go in? Do not say, “I hope so.” That will not do; it is not enough. You would not be content with a mere hope about things down here. No, it is only in the interests of their immortal souls that men are foolhardy and careless.

Do you ask, my reader, “How am I to get to Christ?” If you are in earnest you will soon find the way to Christ. “But,” you say, “what do you want me to do?” I want you to take salvation from the hands of the Lord Jesus Christ. I want your heart for Christ. I want you to bow down to Him, to love Him, to adore Him. May God turn your eye on His Son; for, remember, He is coming. The heavens conceal Him now but another hour and it may not be so. He may have come out, and those who are ready may have gone in, and the door may be shut, and shut on you forever. Would you like to be outside? He wants to have you inside. He wants you to believe in His name, to believe in His love. He wants not merely to rescue you from the power of the devil, not merely to save you from hell, but to make you a sharer of the joy that is His, to taste the grace of His Father’s heart, to bring you into association with Himself in the bright scenes of His heavenly home. Oh, let there be reality now in your heart; do not be content any longer with being a mere professor.

Perhaps your first real confession to Him may have to be, “I have been only a hypocrite, and never a real believer at all.” Very likely; but believe Him simply just now, for if you are only dreaming of being a Christian someday, the time is soon coming when your dream must be rudely broken.

“At midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him.” Why midnight? The darkest time of all had come, and the dawn was near, the morning of His coming. The bright hope He gives to Christian hearts is that they shall be caught up to meet Him. If the Lord were to come today, there would be enacted a scene of which the mount of transfiguration was a lovely picture. Moses is a type of those who have passed through death; Elias a type of those who go up without dying at all; but all are together with the Lord. Again, we shall be like Enoch, translated, taken of the earth without passing through death at all. No doubt Enoch was considered a pest to society in his day, because he prophesied of coming judgment, and warned men of their ungodliness. Men do not like to hear of coming judgment, but it is coming.

The last time the world saw Christ they put a reed in His right hand in bitter mockery, and then they pierced that hand with nails, and fastened it to the cross. The next time the world sees Christ He will be holding the rod of power, wielding the sword of judgment. Will you meet Him in grace now, or risk meeting Him in judgment then?

Would you like to meet Him if He came today? “Well, no; I cannot say that I should. I would rather put it off a little longer.” Quite so! that answer just shows where you are. You do not know Him. The soul that knows the Lord will always like to go to meet Him. Every child of God delights to think he shall meet and see Jesus. My Saviour is the One who loved me and died for me, and I know nothing so sweet as this simple thought, to be with the Lord Jesus. It is transcendently sweet. Whose company does one love best on earth? The one dearest to us of course. It is very simple; and whose company is so dear to us as His?

“Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out.” Their lamps had gone out, there was no oil in them; there had been the profession of Christ; no doubt they had been baptized, and, if they lived where confirmation takes place, had been also confirmed; had been members of churches; but there had been no question of real conversion. Have you been really converted? Have you the oil? Have you the Holy Ghost? How do I know I have the Holy Ghost? Because I am quite sure God is my Father, and it is the Spirit of adoption that makes me cry “Abba, Father.” The soul that is really brought to God, could you hear that one on his knees alone with God, would be heard to say, “Father, Father.” Do you look up and call Him Father? “How can I call God, Father?” you ask. By believing in Jesus you become a child. “Ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.” God gives the Holy Ghost to those who believe in Jesus. The moment you, as a poor sinner, take your place at the feet of Jesus, ―believe in Jesus, trust Jesus, have done with confidence in yourself, and trust Him, ―that moment you become a child of God. And the next thing, is the gift of the Holy Ghost; you get the oil in your vessel.

“But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.” Why does it say buy? Does it contemplate the possibility that anything we could give could purchase the gift of the Holy Ghost? Not at all. “Thy money perish with thee,” Peter says to Simon Magus, when he suggests such a thought, “because thou halt thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money.” It is without money, without price; and still he says, “Come, buy,” and again, “I counsel thee to buy of me gold.” And why is this? Because it contemplates a soul willing to pay any price; it contemplates a thorough, positive, earnest desire in the soul to get what it needs.

Friend, are you in earnest, again I say? Are you ready? You ask, “Can a soul be ready?” Yes. “But what about my sins?” Did you never hear this, “Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many?” He settled for me the question of sin when He suffered, the Just for the unjust. How do I know I am ready? Because He died for me; He bore all my sins on the cross, and met all the claims God had against me. Are my sins to be put away by what He will do? No, by what He has done. A Christian stands between the first coming of Christ and the second; between the cross and the glory. I look back to the cross, and see the work all finished there, when He was offered up. If I think of my sins, I am ready, because of what Christ has done. Our readiness consists in this, that we have believed in the One who died and rose again; and we look forward now to Him as the coming One, enjoying meantime all the fruits of His finished work.

Do you say, “It is presumptuous to be sure?” Well, if God says, “Their sins and iniquities will I remember no more,” am I to believe God, or am I to doubt Him? “The gift of God is eternal life.” Now, what do you do with a gift from a friend, do you send it back, or do you take it? “I take it of course,” you say. Are you presumptuous to take it? I say, if God speaks to me, I will believe His word. If He sends me a gift, I will take it, let who will call me presumptuous. John says, “These things have I written unto you that believe in the name of the Son of God, that ye may know that ye have eternal life.” I either believe God, or make Him a liar. I believe Him when He says I am a ruined sinner; shall I not believe Him when He says He gives me eternal life? I must believe the witness to me, before I can get the witness in me, ―believe, before I can feel. Is He not worth believing? Is He not worth trusting?

Trust Him now; do not delay. Remember, “they that were READY went in, and the door was shut.”

That will be awful for those outside; and once more, therefore, ere I close, I would solemnly ask you, If the Master of the house rose up this hour and shut the door, which side of the door would you be? Do not risk it longer. Do not be infatuated; do not be outside the door in that day, with only the devil’s portion for eternity.

And now, dear Christian, what a glorious future is before you, to be caught up and meet the Lord in the air. It is part of the victory of the Lord Jesus that you and I need never taste death, because He has tasted it in all its bitterness and woe for us. It is part of the spoil that He has wrung from Satan, that you and I may go up to meet Him without being taken through death at all. May the Lord keep our hearts waiting more simply for Himself.

And may the Lord press these words on your heart, dear unsaved one, “THEY THAT WERE READY WENT IN, AND THE DOOR WAS SHUT.” Do not sleep this night without knowing that you are ready, for you may lay your head down on a bed of feathers and awake in a bed of fire. May the Lord have mercy on you who have no mercy on yourselves. W.T. P. W.

Tom's New Song; or, "Afraid of the Consequences."

LIKE showers upon the new-mown grass had the glorious gospel fallen on the little country town of B—. The Lord’s children had been revived, and many unconverted awakened to their lost condition, and led to accept God’s proffered salvation. Now the meetings were about to end, and a group of bright youthful faces, lit up with a new-found heavenly joy, surrounded the tea table of an aged Christian. The evangelist, whose services had been so richly blessed, had a beaming smile and an earnest word for all present, prayerfully striving to confirm the newly born souls in the faith. Specially did he press on them the blessedness of confessing with the mouth the Lord Jesus, deprecating the action of one member of a family being converted and not making it known to the others.

“Janet, that’s like you,” impulsively said a young man who was present to his sister, “you were converted a long time without ever speaking to me about my soul.”

“Oh, surely I did, Tom,” she answered confusedly.

“Well, maybe you did; if I were from home, you put it in a letter.”

Come, sisters, how are we acting toward our unregenerate brothers? Are we quietly enjoying the favors bestowed on us without exerting ourselves in their behalf? May not our apathy be disclosed in a similar way? At the same time we do not seek to justify the young man’s conduct in thus exposing his sister.

It was not long before Tom’s own faithfulness to the truth was put to the test. A week or two later some friends came to spend the afternoon at his father’s farmhouse. They occupied a farm some miles distant, and with one of the sons, Alick, he was an intimate associate.

Alick found Tom’s society unusually dull that afternoon. As for Tom, he was greatly dissatisfied with himself. In the first transport of joy in the love of the Saviour he had found, he felt as though he could triumphantly proclaim His worth to all the world; now, when an opportunity occurred for telling it simply to a friend, he felt strangely lacking in courage. He, who had been so ready to accuse his sister of timidity, was now full of scruples himself. This grieved him intensely, and taught him his own weakness, while an earnest prayer arose from his heart, pleading for strength to tell his friends of the great things God had done for him. No such prayer remains unanswered.

“Come, Tom,” said Alick, “what is the matter with you today? Let us hear a song from you; have you got any new piece?”

In answer to this request Tom lifted his melodeon, and ran his fingers nimbly along the keys, accompanying the notes with his clear tenor voice. His friends listened in silence as the words fell on their ears―

“I am Thine, O Lord;

I have heard Thy voice,

And it told Thy love to me;

But I long to rise in the arms of faith

And be closer drawn to Thee.”

His vocal powers were exceptionally fine, and he sang the hymn through with a pathos which thrilled his listeners. Alick broke the silence which followed the singing of it by saying, — “That is a new kind of song for you, Tom.”

“Yes,” he returned, “the Lord hath put a ‘new song’ in my mouth, and I earnestly desire that all my friends may hear it, and be led to trust in the Lord.”

Having thus boldly hoisted his colors, the young believer experienced the peculiar joy that springs from confessing Christ’s blessed name; and now he had done so, his timidity all vanished, he felt “bold as a lion,” and spoke earnestly to his companions, telling them how he had, as a lost, guilty sinner, fled for refuge, and found shelter in the blood of Christ.

“The Lord hath given a banner to them that fear Him, that it may be displayed because of the truth,” and once that banner is fully unfurled the battle is half won. Those who do not rank under the same ensign soon fall aloof from the standard-bearer, and Tom soon found his former companions at variance with him. This did not move him, ―he was now a member of the “household of faith,” and in that relationship found many with whom he held sweet converse.

Eighteen months passed. It was the annual show and sale of cattle at B―, always a fete day in agricultural districts. Tom and Alick were there, each attending to his father’s interests. Since the day Tom had, frankly avowed his allegiance to Christ, Alick had sedulously evaded him; but that night, on leaving the market-place, he made up to him and appeared desirous of his company. Tom quickly noticed the change in his manner, and attributed it―rightly it turned out―to concern in spiritual matters. Their ways home lay in different directions, but Tom was too earnest over his friend’s conversion to allow a few miles’ walk to deter him from speaking a word in season to him. Soon Alick acknowledged that ever since he had startled him by the singing of his “new song,” he had been a spirit-wounded, convicted sinner. He had endeavored to stifle the appealing’s of his conscience, but in vain. Next he tried weeping and praying, but these afforded no relief. Then he thought he would wait patiently till some wondrous change came over his heart, but all to no purpose. Theoretically, he knew the gospel well, but no amount of head-knowledge will suffice to bring comfort to a sin-burdened soul.

Simply and fully did Tom explain to him the “old, old story,” how “God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself,” that

“It is not our tears of repentance and prayers,

But the blood, that atones for the soul;”

that the moment faith lays hold of the wondrous truth that “the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth us from all sin,” in that moment does the soul pass “from death unto life.”

Still Alick hesitated.

“Tell me,” said Tom, with deep feeling in his voice, “what it is that stumbles you?”

The two young men walked on for some time in silence, then Alick said, apparently with an effort, ―

“I do long for pardon; my sins keep hovering like a dark spectre round me; I know the Lord Jesus has suffered for them, and that now He is offering me the gift of eternal life, but, but―”

“But what?”

“But I am afraid, if I accept it, of the consequences.”

“Afraid of the consequences! Afraid of the consequences! You may well be afraid of the consequences of rejecting so great salvation, but afraid of the consequences of accepting it, you surely cannot be, when it will bring you ‘love and light and lasting joy.’ What do you mean by being afraid of the consequences?” rejoined Tom.

“Oh, I am not afraid of the benefits I will derive from it, quite the contrary, but I shrink from the reproach it might bring me. For instance, you today preaching in the market-place, where everybody knew you, and telling the decent farmers they were lost, and except they were born again they could not enter the kingdom of God. Most of them were laughing at you, and you have made the whole country-side ring with your name. I tried to picture myself―supposing I were getting converted―testifying as you were doing, and it quite unnerved me.”

“And no wonder,” said Tom quickly; “you were depicting yourself suffering for Christ’s sake before tasting the wondrous fruits of His sufferings for you. To me it seems a special gift “not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake;” but with that you have, in the meantime, nothing to do. God, in grace, is now offering to you His unspeakable gift, and it is at your peril you refuse.”

More conversation followed, which need not be related here; then Tom, who was now a long way off his own route home, retraced his steps, praying unceasingly the while that his friend might not close his eyes against the light.

Alick, left to pursue his journey alone, did so with laggard step and cloudy brow. The road led across a hill, behind which lay his home. The mental anguish through which he was passing seemed to have weakened his physical strength. He dropped on his knees on the road-side, exclaiming, “I can’t go any further till I know my sins are forgiven.” It was not now quivering’s about after-testimony that harassed him, but deep heart-yearnings after peace. And peace came. In the deepening twilight, on the lone hill-side, streamed the light of the glorious gospel of Christ on his troubled soul. He rose from his knees animated by a new life, and, with a joyous burst of song, walked quickly home. In the farmyard he met his sister Ellen, and with a gladsome mind be communicated to her the joyful news. She listened rather dubiously, and said, “It may be true, but it is a funny thing to happen in our family.”

It was undoubtedly something new. He was the first in that household on whom God set His seal, and very marked was the change it made in him. Previously he feared he might succumb to the taunts and jeers he would encounter, but now, realizing himself to be a “chosen vessel,” it was his delight to bear the name of Jesus before all with whom he came in contact. Naturally his brothers and his sisters were his first concern. He labored fervently in prayer for them, and was careful to let no opportunity pass of “speaking the truth in love.” His work was not fruitless. Ellen was the first to be told of his conversion, and she was also the first he was instrumental in leading to the feet of Jesus. Marvelous was the difference in that household as one by one its members were turned from “darkness to light.” In the course of three years the whole seven of them were in the divine sense of the term “children of one Father.”

Blessed, glorious consequences! Oh, you who are halting between two opinions, who long to be supremely blessed, but fear to venture your soul to Jesus’ keeping, lest it might bring you a scoff from your companions, a jeer from your friends, or, you fear, might hurt your business, may you be enabled to say truly, ―

“Jesus, I will trust Thee,

Trust Thee with my soul

Guilty, lost, and helpless,

Thou canst make me whole.”

M. M.

Lost or Saved! Which?

“For by grace are ye saved through faith: and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast.”―Ephesians 2:8, 9.

IT was during the fine summer weather in July 1885 that the steamer C―l sailed, in the ordinary course of her business, from London for Liverpool, having on board, besides her cargo, a number of passengers, some of whom were spending their summer holiday, and had selected this short sea trip as a means of procuring fresh air and change of scene. Among the number was a young man from a large commercial house in London, much respected and esteemed by all who knew him, who was thus making his way to the Lakes, and had carefully devised his way beforehand (Prov. 16:9).

Sailing from London at three P.M. on a Saturday, and having called, as is the custom of these coasting vessels, at Southampton and Plymouth, all went pleasantly enough until the early morning of the following Tuesday, when the C―l encountered a fog in the Bristol Channel, and although the usual precautions were taken, she was run into by the H―a, one of the Royal Navy steamships, and in five minutes sank in fifteen fathoms of water.

The young man above mentioned was awaked, apparently by the collision, and intuitively catching the alarm of immediate danger, he instantly made his way up on deck with literally nothing but his night-shirt, and at once grasping the situation, rushed forward, and taking a leap into the water, soon swam clear of the sinking ship, and so far saved himself from the inevitable consequence of being drawn into the vortex made by the foundering vessel. Then, availing himself of the ready aid of a rope thrown overboard from the H—a, his utmost efforts were called forth in scaling the side of the big ship by hand-over-hand climbing. This he had well-nigh accomplished, when, overcome by the excitement and unwonted exertion, he suddenly let go his hold when close up to the bulwarks, the result being a helpless fall back into what promised to be a watery grave. At this crisis, when all hope of saving himself was completely swept away, his rescue from drowning was effected by a means altogether outside himself, for, by the dexterity known to practiced sailors, a rope was speedily fastened round his body, and he was hauled up safe on deck, a living example of salvation through the intervention of another, and an apt illustration of the verses at the head of this narrative.

Reader, you have doubtless followed in all the circumstances of this short account, and have perhaps considered it only as one of the many stories of sea life with which we are all more or less familiar but may there not be in it a voice for you who, although your body may never have been in jeopardy such as the above described, still, it may be, have never yet woke up to the fact that you are by nature a lost soul, and, further, that you have no more power to save yourself than had the young man in the above narrative? Your danger, too, is imminent, for if not saved now, while you have existence in this world, you will pass out of it into eternity an unsaved soul.

It is not a question of morality, uprightness of character, respectability, faithful and conscientious dealings with your fellow-men, and such like; the fact is, God has concluded all under sin (Rom. 3:23), that He may have mercy upon all (Rom. 11:32), and there is no help for it but for you to accept the Remedy, and the only remedy that God Himself has in His love and grace provided, and that remedy is the death of His own beloved Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, who died once on Calvary’s cross, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God (1 Peter 3:18).

The Word of God is very terse and very comprehensive. In Acts 16:31 we find, “And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.” And in John 5:24 we find what Jesus said, ― “Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that HEAHETH my word, and BELIEVETH on him that sent me, MATH everlasting life, and SHALL NOT COME into condemnation, but is PASSED from death unto life.”

Reader! is the sin question an eternally settled matter between yourself and God? Because, remember, if you are not saved, you are still in the condition in which you were born―lost!!! ANON.

Ready.

M’C―, you’re a dying man!” were the startling words, spoken, quite in jest, by a man to his fellow-workman, whilst engaged at their daily occupation one morning in the autumn of 1877. “Bless the Lord for that,” was the quick and ready response given; and nothing more was said, the one addressed being by no means disconcerted by such a statement, but by his answer seemed to imply that such news was too good to be true.

M’C― was the oldest of a handful of Christians (known as M’C―’s band), employed as ship-carpenters in the dry docks of a seaport town in the West of England, and was often the subject of strange remarks made in his hearing by some of his unconverted fellow-workmen, who liked to hear what answer he would make; but little did the thoughtless speaker on this occasion think how true his idle remark would soon prove to be. Such, however, was the case. About an hour afterward, a block of wood, attached to the rigging of the vessel on which M’C― was working, by some means fell from its position, striking him with considerable force, and causing him to fall several feet into the dry dock. He was picked up insensible, and carried home; medical assistance was procured, but to no purpose; he never spoke again, and calmly and peacefully passed away to be with the Lord, whom he had long loved, and diligently sought to follow.

A kind warm-hearted man, always ready to help others, whether his own circumstances were prosperous or not, and withal a bright and happy Christian, he was much loved by the circle of Christians with whom he was associated, as well as respected by all who knew him.

The writer well recollects the funeral procession passing through the streets. The ship―carpenters― attending by their own desire to the number of a hundred or more, neatly dressed in black, and walking two deep-preceded the hearse, which was followed by a goodly number of his fellow-Christians, who, while they mourned the loss of a brother beloved by all, knew that for him to depart and be with Christ was far better, looking forward to the day when they with him should share the joys of the Father’s house.

What effect this solemn occurrence had on the one who made the thoughtless remark to M’C― the writer knows not; but well it was that the fatal block did not strike him, for it is feared it would have found him unprepared to enter the presence of a holy and righteous God, who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, and cannot look upon sin.

To each unconverted reader of this true narrative let me put the question, ―How would it fare with your soul if God sent a message to you that you had but one short hour to live? M’C― started out in health and strength that autumn morning to follow his daily occupation as usual, but he was ready, and you are not! His reply of, “Bless the Lord for that,” were almost, if not the last words he was known to utter. “Be ye therefore ready also”

(Luke 12:42). Z.

The Gypsy's Creed.

WE lately met with an old gypsy in the west of England, whose case interested us not a little. For forty-five years he had never entered any place of religious instruction. He was, however, induced by a friend to come under the sound of the gospel; and, on the very first occasion, his soul was arrested. He continued to attend regularly, and divine light shone in gradually upon his soul. After attending for some weeks on the preaching, he was speaking to a Christian friend, and telling him, in his own simple style, his spiritual experience. “Sir,” said he, “the first thing I learned was, that I had never done a right thing all my life; the next thing I learned was, that I could not do a right thing, my nature was that bad; and then, sir, I learned that Christ had done all, and met all.”

Now these are what we may call “three good things to learn.” And if the reader has not already learned them, we would earnestly entreat him to apply his heart to them now. Let us briefly glance at these three points of Christian knowledge; they lie at the very foundation of true Christianity.

1. And first, then, our poor old friend discovered that he had never done a right thing all his days. This is a serious discovery for a soul to make. It marks an interesting epoch in the history of a soul when the eyes are first opened and thrown back upon the entire career, from the earliest moment, and the whole thing is found to have been one tissue of sin from beginning to end, every page of the volume blotted, from margin to margin. This, we repeat, is very serious. It marks the earliest stage of spiritual conviction, and is intensely interesting to all who watch for souls, and take an interest in the precious mysteries of God’s new creation.

2. But there is more than this: Our old friend, not only learned that his acts―all his acts, the acts of his whole life―had been bad, but also that his nature was bad; and not only bad, but utterly unamendable. This is a grand point to get hold of. It is an essential element in all true repentance. It will invariably be found that whenever the Spirit of God works in convicting power in the soul of the sinner, He produces the sense of sin in the nature, as well as of sins in the life. It is well to learn this thoroughly at the first. Many souls, when first converted, are more occupied with the forgiveness of their sins than with the judgment of their sinful nature. They see that the blood of Christ has canceled the sins of their life; but they do not see that the death of Christ has condemned sin in their nature. Hence it is that when the early bloom of their joy passes away, and they begin to feel the workings of indwelling sin, they are cast down, and almost driven to despair. They begin to think that they never were converted at all, and are in great danger of making shipwreck.

It is of all importance, therefore, for the reader to give attention to the second point learned by our dear old friend in the west. He will have to learn not only that the acts of his life have been all bad, but that his nature is incurable. No doubt people differ as to their acts and their ways, but the nature is the same. A crab-tree is a crab-tree, whether it bear but one crab in ten years, or ten thousand crabs in one year. Nothing but a crab-tree could produce even a solitary crab; and hence the nature of the tree is as clearly proved by one crab as by ten thousand. And further, we may say that all the art of man, all his cultivation, all his digging and pruning, cannot change the nature of a crab-tree; there must be a new nature, a new life, ere any acceptable fruit can be produced. “Ye must be born again.”

3. But this leads us to look at what our old friend learned as the third point, namely, that Christ had done all, and met all. Precious fact! Blessed knowledge for every convicted soul! The Lord Jesus Christ―all praise to His precious name! ―has met the sins of my life, and the sin of my nature. He has canceled the former, and condemned the latter. My sinful acts are all forgiven, and my sinful nature is judged. The former are washed away from my conscience, the latter is forever set aside from God’s presence. It is one thing to know the forgiveness of sins, and another to know the condemnation of sin.

We read, at the opening of Romans 8 that God, “sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh.” It does not speak of the forgiveness of sin. This could not be. Sins are forgiven, the sinner is pardoned; but sin is condemned―an immensely important distinction for every earnest soul. The reign of sin is ended forever as to the believer, and the reign of grace is begun. The knowledge of this is peace, and liberty, victory, and strength to the Christian.

This glorious doctrine is unfolded in the sixth chapter of Romans, a chapter which we earnestly recommend to the young disciple. In it he will notice the interesting fact that the Apostle is not speaking of sins, but of sin. “Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin. For he that is dead is freed from sin ... . For in that he died, he died unto sin once: but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God. Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord. Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal body, that ye should obey it in the lusts thereof. Neither yield ye your members, as instruments of unrighteousness unto sin: but yield yourselves unto God, as those that are alive from the dead, and your members are instruments of righteousness unto God. For sin shall not have dominion over you; for ye are not under the law, but under grace.”

This is a most precious emancipating truth for the soul. It forms the true basis of victory over indwelling sin. To know that the dominion of sin is broken by the Cross, and that grace reigns through righteousness, unto eternal life by Jesus Christ, is the divine secret of all progress in personal holiness.

C. H. M.

Tom and the Capucin Monk; Or, From Darkness to Light.

TOM M―, of―, was brought up in the Catholic faith. His mother having died the day of his birth, he was confided to the care of an aunt, a woman who, whilst zealous for the tradition of her fathers, at the same time loved to read the Word of God. And more than this, she had learned to love the Saviour, revealed in its precious pages, and often instilled its blessed precepts and instructive histories, especially that of Jesus the Son of God, into the mind of her young charge.

Tom’s father falling into difficulties, the family was scattered, and, at the age of nine, the boy was sent to live with his grandmother in another village. Here he was put to cattle-minding, and also employed in the service of the curate. About this time God began to work in his soul, and he became very anxious, dreading lest he should die in his sins, and be lost forever. Turning very religious, he confessed his sins to the priest, said his prayers, performed penances, and strove all he knew how to please God; but only to find that his thoughts were constantly distracted from the thing of God, and all his best performances mixed with sin. As far off from peace as ever, he began to think that a monastic life would be the only way to attain the happiness he so much desired.

Presently the curate left, and a Capucin monk came temporarily to fulfill his duties. Father X―was a man in years, venerable-looking, kind, and gracious, and an eloquent preacher. His health being feeble, it was thought advisable that he should go into a lodging, instead of occupying the presbytery, and he came to live at the house of Tom’s grandmother. Here Tom waited upon him, and slept in the same chamber, and the monk, taking a fancy to the youth, made him quite a friend.

Finding one day that he was going to visit his monastery at some distance to fetch some books, Tom expressed the desire of his heart to visit it also. To his great joy he took him with him. But he was greatly astonished to find on his arrival that the monastery was a very different place to what his young mind imagined. At the back of a large building adorned with pictures of the life of the founder of the order, he saw a magnificent garden, with large greenhouses, filled with the choicest plants, fruits, and vegetables, and a skittle ground for the amusement of the monks. And happening to look, through an open door in the corridor, he was confounded on seeing three of the inmates seated comfortably round a table playing at cards.

On the way home the Capucin and his companion rested a while on a hill near their village when the former, noticing the troubled look of his young friend, asked him what ailed him. Tom then opened all his heart, and told the monk of his troubles of conscience, his combats, his fears; adding, that notwithstanding all his efforts to keep the commandments of God, to follow his religious duties, and the behests of the Holy Church, all seemed in vain, and that he was a perfect stranger to true repose of soul. And finding that, in spite of all his efforts, his thoughts were so disturbed, he had imagined that the only way for him was to leave this poor world and its temptations, and to enter a monastery. “I would give all the world,” added poor Tom in conclusion, “to be like you.”

To his great surprise the Capucin replied: ― “Ah, do not deceive yourself, my young friend; it is not a frock, and penances, and austere exercises which can deliver you from the state you are in, nor give you any relief. The heart of man is wicked and incorrigible, and ever remains so. It is only the Lord that can deliver you, only His blood can purify you. Redemption is accomplished. Out of Christ there is no salvation. Wait till these things are applied to you.”

“But,” exclaimed Tom, filled with astonishment, “if that is the case, how is it that you, my father, are a Capucin? Pardon me the liberty.”

“It was the same need that you are experiencing that led me to act thus; but, speaking from my experience, I cannot advise you to think of a similar step.”

“I know your sincerity, my father; but permit me to ask you one more question. You speak of the blood that purifies and accomplished redemption. But is it not by the unbloody sacrifice, the mass, that we put ourselves under the merits of the sacrifice of Christ? At least the Church teaches us that.”

“Yes, it is true the Church teaches that, and I would not weaken your confidence in what the Holy Church says. But you must not place the authority of the Church above that of God. Do you not believe that the Father can apply the merits of His Son to whom He pleases?”

“I think so; but how can one know?”

“I tell you, wait, be patient, that is all I may say, for in John 3:8 we read, ‘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 Spirit. I repeat, my young friend, wait patiently.”

The two returned home. Soon after the Capucin, being seriously ill, returned to the monastery. Tom went to his sheep-minding, the monk’s words dissuading him for the moment from the thought of a monastic life. At the same time some hope filled his breast, but he still lacked peace. Probably this dear man had spoken according to the measure of his intelligence in these things; or, if he knew more, feared for the moment to compromise his position. Later on he spoke out more boldly.

Two years after Tom left his grandmother, and eventually took work with a blacksmith. Here he met with a severe accident, being kicked by a horse on the leg, which became so bad that, after great suffering, he was forced to be removed to the hospital. Visited by his aunt, she left him a New Testament, trusting it would become a blessing to his soul. The priest came shortly after, and seeing it at the side of his bed, inquired where he had obtained it. Finding it was the aunt, he went immediately to Tom’s uncle, and solemnly warned him against her, advising that she should be forthwith removed to an asylum, where she was forcibly taken a few days after.

It being necessary to amputate Tom’s leg, the priest removed the New Testament, and administered extreme unction, to which he submitted, hoping to find some consolation, with the uncertainty of the issue before him. He recovered, however, from the operation, and in two months was enabled to go out again. But still his soul lacked peace; and again he passed through deep exercises, spending hours of the night in prayer with a crucifix in his hand, the priest recommending him to go a pilgrimage on his crotches. Poor, maimed, and miserable, he was almost delivered over to despair.

Just at this time his eye lit upon an old picture with the letters I.H.S. underneath, and a verse of Scripture, Acts 4:12: “There is none other name, under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved.” Tom was greatly struck with these words, and meditated on them for many days, and hope sprang up in his breast. But he was sorely puzzled as to how he could be saved by someone else, and turned to the curate for an explanation, only to be plunged into still greater perplexity.

After this, being lame, he commenced tailoring, and employed his spare time in reading twelve volumes of “Legends of the Saints,” and serious thoughts of entering a convent again filled his mind, but he was hindered.

Removing to another village to pursue his calling, he arrived just at the time of several pilgrimages to the church, where there was a cross to which was attributed the performance of wonderful miracles. Hundreds of pilgrims arrived every Friday. Special and solemn services were held at the church, and one day Tom went with the rest, when what was his surprise to find in the pulpit his old friend Father X—. But in his sermon he not only did not make mention of this cross, but dwelt on the finished work of Christ, and wound up a most eloquent discourse with the words: “It is at the cross of Calvary that Jesus the Son of God has shown how much He loves us, in drinking the cup of wrath for us; and it is at the foot of that cross that the guilty sinner finds pardon, the lost sinner deliverance, and the dead sinner life. Amen.”

These words made a deep impression on Tom, and remained engraven in his memory.

A little later he found himself in a village where only French was spoken, of which language he was as yet completely ignorant. Being without resource, he prayed at the entrance that God would direct him to some work where he could find out the way to be saved, a prayer which was heard, and answered a little later on. It was a Protestant village, and there were certain persons in it who knew and loved the Saviour. Living there some time, it happened one day that he entered into conversation with two others, one of whom was an earnest Christian. He was shown several passages in the New Testament, and was greatly struck by Hebrews 10:14, “By one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified.” Demanding an explanation of the verse, one of his companions unfolded before him very simply the precious foundation truths of the gospel of God, and the light broke into his soul. For twelve long weary years he had been groping in the dark, but now he was filled with astonishment at the blessed simplicity of the Word of God. He apprehended the infinite value of the precious blood of Christ, and saw by faith that His finished work had glorified God perfectly. His sins were forgiven for His name’s sake (1 John 2:12), and he was at peace with God. The long night of darkness and doubt was passed, and the bright day of light and assurance had taken its place. Tom was saved.

And it was a complete deliverance, not only from the weary burden of his sins, but from the heavy yoke also of a false system of works, and doings in the flesh, instead of the glorious salvation of God, found only in the Living Christ and His finished work.

Shortly after this his aunt died, resting in perfect peace on the infinite value of Christ’s precious blood.

Many years later, Tom’s father, having come to stay a while with his son, recounted to him the following incident: ―Working as an engineer on a new railway, the weather being extremely hot, he and two other companions called at a monastery, and obtained an entrance under the plea of seeking a good point of view from the tower, so that they might arrange the course of the line without interfering with the convent. Their ruse succeeded, and the chief ecclesiastic invited them to partake of some wine and a comfortable repast before leaving. Presently an aged and benevolent-looking man, leaning on two sticks, entered the hall. Who should it be but our friend, the monk X―!

Inviting Tom’s father into the garden, he inquired after the whole family, and was greatly pleased to hear of the conversion of Tom, desiring him to give him his cordial salutations when he wrote. He further explained to his visitor that he was placed there in, retreat on account of his having announced publicly the way of grace, but nothing touched the joy in Christ that filled his heart; and concluded by expressing his hope that Tom’s father would soon receive the same blessing as his son, a wish which was shortly after realized.

A little later the aged monk fell peacefully asleep through Jesus. Tom lives on still, following in the way, by the grace of God, rejoicing in Christ, seeking to serve Him in good works in the path of faith, and finding his joy too in announcing the glad tidings of salvation to others.

How wondrous are the ways of God! Beloved reader, what think ye of these things? Is the conversion of a soul a myth, or a blessed bright reality? Is heaven to be attained by the fleshly efforts of the poor sinner, or by Christ and His finished work? Learn, then, from the above history the fruitlessness of human doings, human religion, and come as a poor guilty lost one to the precious Saviour, raised up and glorified on high. Christ Jesus only can save you. His blood alone can cleanse you. Come then simply to Him; come now. Guilty, you need forgiveness; lost, you need salvation; dead, you need life. Come to Jesus, and all these precious things are yours.

A Living Christ is on the throne of God; His work glorified God. And now God presents Him to you in the gospel as the object of faith. “To him give all the prophets witness, that, through his name, whosoever believeth in him shall receive remission of sins” (Acts 10:43). Christ is all. By faith in Him, a peace which the world can neither give nor take away will fill your soul, and soon, kept by the grace of a Saviour God, you shall reap with Christ in glory the eternal fruits of His finished work. E. H. C.

"The Wrath of God."

THERE could not be a more solemn or solemnizing expression than the one that stands at the head of this paper; and for a few moments I would call my reader’s most earnest attention to it.

It is well to know that God is never spoken of as the God who delights in wrath; but He is, as the God of all grace, the God of peace, the God of hope, the God of patience, the God who is love, the God of our salvation, and judgment is His strange work. He swears by Himself, and says, “As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked” (Ezek. 33:11). Yet God is a holy God, and it is written, “I go my way, and ye shall seek me, and shall die in your sins: whither I go, ye cannot come” (John 8:21). And one who dies in his sins remains under God’s wrath, and exposed to that wrath forever.

“The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness” (Rom. 1:18). It is a revealed fact; it is not yet executed, but the day is fixed. When the day of grace is past, and God’s long-suffering ceases, when He takes in hand to execute His strange work, then the vials of His wrath will be poured out.

What a day that will be for this godless, Christ-less, Holy-Ghost-slighting, Word-of-God-rejecting, and grace-despising world! And, to speak of individuals, what a day for the atheist, pantheist, infidel, scoffer, moralist, and religionist, who has never bowed the knee to Christ! “He that believeth not [is not subject to] the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him” (John 3:36).

O my reader, have you kissed the Son? If not, “Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him” (Psa. 2:12).

When Joseph was brought out of the prison in Egypt, and made second to Pharaoh, and as he rode in his chariot, they cried before him, “Bow the knee.” Joseph is a type of Christ, ―risen from the dead, exalted to the right hand of God, crowned with glory and honor, with all power and judgment committed into His hand. Let me ask, Have you bowed the knee? Have you submitted to His authority? Have you confessed Him Lord? Have you trusted Him for salvation? And thus has He become thy Saviour and Lord?

When Pharaoh had exalted Joseph lie gave him the name Zaphnath-paaneah, which has a double meaning― “A revealer of secrets,” and “Saviour of the world.” The exalted Jesus is that; He tells you all that you ever did, and saves your soul. As the Samaritans said, “Now we believe, not because of thy saying [verse 29]: for we have heard him ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world” (John 4:42).

He is now, in this day of grace, “the revealer of secrets” and “Saviour of the world,” and says, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:37). But in the day that is coming, He will be the dispenser of wrath, and the executor of judgment. When He appears in glory, with His garments dipped in blood, as we read in Revelation 19:11-16, it will be to tread the winepress of the fierceness of the wrath of Almighty God.

The wrath of God is revealed from heaven; and inexcusable man, who despises the riches of God’s goodness, and forbearance, and long-suffering, not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth to repentance, treasures up to himself wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous judgment of God, who will render to every man according to his deeds (Rom. 2:3-6).

Mark the words, “The goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance.” Where is the goodness of God fully displayed? It is in the cross. It all came out there; God’s love was manifested in His Son dying for His enemies. Oh! bring your heart under the power of that love of God, and you will take the sinner’s place; your cry will be, “God be merciful to me a sinner!” and God in Christ will be revealed to your soul a Saviour-God, One mighty to save!

Now, notice what Jesus says: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation [judgment]; but is passed from death unto life” (John 5:24).

From these words we learn that the one who has heard and believed is delivered from judgment, “and saved from wrath through him” (Rom. 5:9). The blessed Lord bore his sins on the cross, and endured God’s judgment and wrath; hence he goes free. He is justified, has peace with God, stands in God’s eternal favor, and “rejoices in hope of the glory of God” (Rom. 5:1-2).

“Death and judgment are behind us,

Grace and glory are before;

All the billows rolled o’er Jesus,

Here they spent their utmost power.”

The wrath of God then will overtake all those who are out of Christ, ―not subject to Him, ―as the flood overtook all those outside the ark in Noah’s day. In the day of the Lamb’s wrath it will be vain to call upon the mountains and rocks to fall upon them to hide them from the face of Him that sits upon the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb. Those mountains will remain erect, the prayer remain unanswered, and men will be made to “drink the cup of God’s wrath” (Psa. 75:8). Now is the time to pray, not then; now is the time to seek mercy, not then; now is the time to seek His face, not then; now is the time to be saved, then it will be swift judgment and unmingled wrath! Now He says, “Come;” then He will say, “Depart from me.” Which is it going to be with you, my reader?

A parting word, my friend. “FLEE FROM THE WRATH TO COME!” It is revealed from heaven; soon it will be poured out. Flee then, O flee, to the shelter of Christ’s blood, lest thou be swept away, and “judgment and justice take hold on thee!”

“Because there is wrath, beware lest he take thee away with his stroke: then a great ransom cannot deliver thee” (Job 36:18). E. A.

"Faith Cometh by Hearing."

WHEN engaging a servant the other day, one of the conditions put before her was, “that she might be surprised some morning to wake up and find herself quite alone in the house, on account of the Lord Jesus Christ, having, during the night, taken the inmates (who were all saved souls) to be forever with Himself.” “For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: then WE WHICH ARE ALIVE AND REMAIN SHALL BE CAUGHT UP together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord” (1 Thess. 4:16, 17).

At first the young woman hesitated a little, probably because she was not herself one of the Lord’s people, and had not father, mother, brother, sister, or any near akin to take her in if such a thing happened, ―but finally she agreed to the terms. Not being able to read even the A.B.C.s, she did not possess a Bible; and one was presented to her one morning after the family reading. On handing the book to her, I said, “Jane, before giving you this book, which is God’s Word, I wish to read you one verse out of it, and it is this ‘Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life’” (John 5:24).

This verse I read to her twice, with one or two others, which she soon committed to memory, and which the Holy Spirit, I believe, used, in blessing, to the salvation of her soul; for she soon afterward became anxious about her sins, owned her true place of needing a Saviour, trusted the blood of Christ, and has believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, and is saved and knows it. “The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth, and in thy heart: that is, the word of faith which we preach; that if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation” (Rom. 10:8, 9, 10). So that this girl has not now the fear of being left behind, but is ready and waiting, with joy, for her Saviour and Lord to come and take her, with all His own, to Himself, who has “loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood.” Moreover, she bears a bright testimony to her old companions, who have turned their backs upon her; but, in exchange, she has become possessed of numbers of brothers and sisters beyond all expectation. She is learning to read, and her soul drinks in the Word of God whenever she hears it read. Truly is it written: ― “The entrance of thy words giveth light; it giveth understanding to the simple” (Psa. 119:130). “FAITH COMETH BY HEARING, AND HEARING BY THE WORD OF GOD” (Rom. 10:17).

But I ask, Has that Word yet entered the ears of your soul? and have you been turned from darkness to light, from the power of Satan unto God, received forgiveness of sins and inheritance among those who are sanctified by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ? “He that receiveth into the good ground is he that heareth the word, and understandeth it; which also beareth fruit, and bringeth forth, some an hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty” (Matt. 13:23).

You may have read your Bible through scores of times, and know every word of it by memory, and be yet in your sins, ―spiritually stone-blind, deaf as a post, a heart as hard as adamant, and as near the eternal lake of fire as ever you were.

Wake up, then, I pray you. “HEAR, and your soul shall LIVE” (Isa. 4:3). Better far go to glory unable to read your A.B.C.s, than to be eternally lost with your head cram-full of the mere letter of the Scripture, that will at last sink you, if possible, more deeply in perdition! “The word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. Neither is there any creature that is not manifest in his sight: but all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of him with whom we have to do” (Heb. 4:12, 13). We earnestly appeal to you, dear reader, to listen to God’s Word, which also says, “He that believeth, on the Son hath, everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; BUT THE WRATH OF GOD ABIDETH ON HIM” (John 3:36).

By this you plainly see, you have either eternal life, or are under God’s wrath, that may burst upon you at any moment! You are either exposed to being left behind for judgment, or are ready for the Lord to come and take you home to glory. If not the latter, may God in mercy meet you!

J. N.

The Witness of Men, and the Witness of God.

ONE rainy Lord’s Day evening two young men plodded along the muddy roads of one of the southern counties of Scotland, disappointed, and somewhat discouraged at not being able to have a gospel meeting in the village they had left. Speaking of Christ by the way, they were returning to a town some miles distant. Near cross-roads one suggested to his companion, who was a visitor in that part, that if he so inclined they might visit an old farmer who lived about a mile and a half off the main road. He knew him to be in an inquiring state of soul; perhaps God would bless the visit, and so their ten-mile walk would not be a bootless journey.

Only too glad for an opportunity to serve Christ, his friend consented, and a few minutes found them with dripping umbrellas making for the distant farmhouse. The twilight, deepened by a wet mist, set in before the steading was reached, where they shortly arrived end received a hearty Scotch welcome. Upon entering, they found the guide man sitting at the little kitchen window, poring over a large Bible, which with spectacled eyes he attempted to read by the fast receding light. This was a good sign; and as he was alone, his wife not having returned from a distant meeting, it was an opportunity for setting forth the Lord Jesus Christ not to be lost.

This old map belonged to a religious race called the “doubters,” too numerous, alas! amongst the decent kirk-going Presbyterians of our land. Well read from youth in the Bible and the Shorter Catechism, whilst revering the Scriptures he could not receive them in the childlike faith that the Father thereby spoke to him. Like many, he “hoped” for acquittal in the great day of judgment through belief in the general “mercy” of God, and then to be cleared partly on account of the sacrifice of Jesus and partly by an honest walk and conversation. Attending devoutly upon the ordinances of grace, he tried to bring up his family in the fear of the Lord.

Dear reader, this was the farmer’s creed; is it yours? May the Lord show you how impossible it is for the lost to be saved save by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ alone (Gal. 2:16).

Holiness of life follows as a result of receiving Christ alone for salvation, as He is freely offered in the gospel, for it is written, “As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in him” (Col. 2:6).

The stranger asked the farmer what he read, and he answered that it was the fifth chapter of John’s First Epistle.

Without further preface the visitor said, “We met three cows and two men as we came up the road; do you believe me?”

“Yes,” replied the old man.

“How can you so readily believe my word, the saying of a stranger you never saw before?”

“Oh! I have nae reason to doubt your word.”

“Then you simply receive my witness to the fact?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Now turn to the ninth verse of the chapter before you. ‘If we receive the witness of men, the witness of God is greater: for this is the witness of God which he hath testified of his Son. He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in himself: he that believeth not God hath made him a liar; because he believeth not the record that God gave of his Son. And this is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life; and this life is in his Son. He that bath the Son hath life, he that hath not the Son hath not life.’”

There was a solemn pause, during which the conviction of the simplicity of the truth seemed to take hold of the listener’s soul. “The entrance of thy words giveth light; it giveth understanding to the simple.”

The guide wife entering at that moment, a rejoicing child of God, was told the story of meeting the cows and the men. She immediately confirmed it by saying, “It was your brother Sandy and his neighbor driving the kye.” Thus in the mouth of three witnesses was the fact established. God has given three witnesses on earth to accomplished redemption, ―the Spirit, the water, and the blood, and these three agree (vs. 6 and 8). What more does man require? Believe them and you will be saved.

There was joy in that humble cottage, and after freely partaking of new milk and scones the guests departed. They, however, could not be allowed to go alone, the man and his wife insisting on walking a good mile with them (he without a hat), wishing to hear more of the “old, old story of Jesus and His love.”

How simply we receive each other’s word. The rumor of a railway collision, a shipwreck, or a dynamite explosion, is readily believed without any effort. Why then not as simply accept God’s good news concerning His Son Jesus Christ? Because of the hardness of our hearts. But when once His Spirit opens them, how readily we receive “the engrafted word able to save our souls!” The Holy Scriptures are the only basis for faith to rest upon. All else, ―feelings, experiences, reasonings, and human thoughts, are shifting sand. Rest on God’s immutable Word, dear reader, and peace will be yours. The blood of Christ has purchased peace, the Word of God declares peace, and faith rejoices in it. “Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

“I hear the words of love,

I gaze upon the blood;

I see the mighty sacrifice, And I have peace with God.”

T. R. D.

How Martin Boos Found Peace.

MANY say, “The great thing is that a man be earnest and sincere: he that does his very utmost can never be far wrong.” Listen, then, to the simple story of Martin Boos.

He was born on the 25th December 1762 at Huttenrica, on the border of Bavaria and Swabia. He was brought up in the communion of the Romish Church, and early in life was ordained as a priest. Being very religious, he was certainly earnest, and none could doubt his sincerity. Thus he afterward wrote of himself: ―

“I gave myself an immense deal of trouble (I speak as a fool) to lead a truly pious life; for instance, I lay for years together, even in the winter season, upon the cold ground, though my bed stood near me; I scourged myself unto blood, and mortified my body with a shirt of hair; I suffered hunger, and gave my bread to the poor; I spent every leisure hour in the church and cemetery; I confessed and communicated almost every week; in short, I was so pious that the ex-Jesuits and students in Augsburg unanimously elected me to be the prefect of the congregation; I sought by force to live upon my good works and good conduct (not by faith). But what kind of life was it? The prefect, with all his sanctity, fell ever deeper into self-seeking; was always anxious, melancholy, and desponding. Though regarded almost as a saint, yet he was continually crying in his heart, ‘Infelix ego homo! quis me liberabit?’ — ‘O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me?’ (Rom. 7:24.)”

He reached the age of twenty-six or twenty-seven, and was in this state of deepening misery which he has described. He knew not “the way of peace.” But God’s eye was upon him, graciously marking all his ineffectual efforts, and preparing for him a messenger of peace. He was called upon to visit a poor dying woman, who was famed for her sufferings, sanctity, and good works. He stood at her bed-side looking enviously upon her, as he exclaimed, “You may certainly die very peacefully and happily!” “Why so?” she inquired. He replied, “Because you have lived so piously and holily.” She looked at him gravely, and exclaimed in a tone of astonishment, “What a pretty divine you are! what a miserable comforter! What would have become of me? How should I be able to stand before the judgment seat of God, where we must give an account of every idle word? I should certainly be lost if I built happiness and heaven on myself and my own merits and piety. Who is clean amongst the unclean? Who is guiltless in the sight of God? Who is righteous if He were to impute sin? ‘If thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquity, O Lord, who shall stand?’ Which of our actions and virtues would be found of full weight were He to lay them in the balances? No: if Christ had not died for me, if He had not atoned for me, and paid my ransom, I should, with all my good works and pious life, have eternally perished. HE IS MY HOPF, MY SALVATION, AND MY FELICITY.”

Thus simply and sweetly did this poor suffering woman preach Christ to the young priest, turning his mind from all his exercises, toil, and misery to that precious Lamb of God who suffered in the sinner’s stead. He drank in the words as the thirsty ground welcomes the shower from heaven. He believed upon that Saviour, and was filled with all joy and peace in believing. He said afterward, “I perceived Christ for us; rejoiced, like Abraham, in seeing His day; preached Christ, whom I had thus become acquainted with, to others, and they rejoiced with me.”

For nearly forty years he continued to preach Christ, God blessing the Word to the conversion of many. He was persecuted, imprisoned, and at last banished from his country, but through all he was maintained in simple steadfast faith in Christ.

“When once I am dead,” he said, after alluding to his sufferings for his Master, “salute the world from me, and tell her I have no other medicine to give her than this, ‘The just shall live by faith.’ This has cured me and others; but I cannot help it if she has had no confidence in me or my medicine. The belief that a man can be just and holy of himself I had tried as long as she; but that I had subsequently found in an old book that we are justified and saved by grace for Christ’s sake without our meriting it, and that I died in this faith. But if she despises this bridge over the stream, let her wade through the ocean on her own feet, and take care that she is not drowned. This is what you must say to the world when I am dead.”

More than sixty years have passed away since Martin Boos was called home. Still his wards remain, a message to all whom they concern. If God’s salvation be despised, however earnest and sincere the despisers may seem to be, there remains nothing but “a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries” (Heb. 10:27).

If the eye of an anxious soul rest upon these pages, how sweet and simple the message for such, “The just shall live by faith.” Not by labor, good works, and a pious life; but by faith. “To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.” “Being justified by faith WE HAVE PEACE WITH GOD through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 4:5, vs. 1).

J. R.

Luke 14 gives us “a great supper,” and a Divine invitation― “COME, for all things are now ready.” All provided, and all invited. Chapter 15 shows us the guest—the prodigal, “he arose and CAME,” and all is forgiven, and all forgotten. Chapter 16 unfolds the misery of a man who, though invited, did not come. He goes to hell and sends up a message saying, “DON’T COME HERE.” Earth, heaven, and hell are in these three chapters. W. T. P. W.

"This Man Receiveth Sinners."

Luke 15:2.

ALTHOUGH these words were spoken in derision by these self-righteous Pharisees, they were nevertheless true, “This man [Jesus] receiveth sinners.” “He came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” He, out of deep love and pity, left heaven’s heights of glory, and came down into this scene in search of the lost ones, to rescue them from perishing, and pluck them from the hands of the destroyer. Nothing turned Him aside in His errand of love towards them, although they were afar off from God; onward He went to seek them, nothing daunted, though opposed and intercepted at every step, such was the love of His heart. And here we find these returning repentant ones, drawn by His love around Himself, whilst He makes them the happy recipients of His wondrous grace, rejoicing their hearts, as also the heart of God; for “there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth.” Grace flowing out, so full and free to these lost and ruined sinners, drew out the enmity of those cold-hearted religionists. They thought to merit the favor of God by their own good deeds, whilst the Word of God emphatically declares, “There is none righteous, no, not one.” They thus shut themselves out from participating in, what Jesus in His infinite love was so ready to bestow, salvation.

Dear unsaved reader, which of these two classes do you belong to? Do you see yourself lost, ruined, and undone? Instead of seeking to merit the favor of God by doing your best, do you see and own that you have done your worst, and merited hell by your actions? How blessed to know it was just such an one the Saviour came to save. He went through death itself, bearing the judgment of sin, in order that you might be brought to God in a righteous way. Thus owning the truth of your condition to Him, like the publican who cried, “God be merciful to me a sinner,” He will clear you from every charge of guilt. He (the publican) went down to his house justified; and if God justifies, “who is he that condemneth?” “Being justified freely, by his grace, through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus.”

Are you, dear reader, still clinging to your own righteousness, and will not let it go? I tell you solemnly, though in all affection, you are going straight to hell; God cannot accept you on the ground of your own good works. He “looked down from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did understand, and seek God. They are all gone aside, they are all together become filthy; there is none that doeth good, no, not one” (Psa. 14:2, 3). Thus you see, from God’s Word, that your estimate of yourself, and what God sees you to be, are quite in contrast. Vindicate yourself no longer then, I pray you, but come into the presence of a thrice-holy God, and have yourself exposed there, and surely you will be ready to cry out, like one of old, “Woe is me, for I am undone!” Trust the work of Christ alone for salvation, then you shall have the certainty that “thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged.” His own word, which cannot lie, says― “Their sins and iniquities I will remember no more.” “There is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved.” God is satisfied with the work which Jesus accomplished on the cross; the proof of it is His resurrection and exaltation. Better far to bow to Him now, in this the day of grace, than to be compelled to bow when the door of mercy is forever closed. Now, you bow at a Saviour’s feet; then, before a stern judge, to hear your sentence, and be consigned to an eternal hell. “God commendeth his love towards us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.”

“He left the radiant throne above,

Stooped down to bleed and die,

To meet the need of ruined man, ―

What love with His can vie!”

Love's Necessity, and Faith's Blessing.

“And he said unto them, These are the words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must be fulfilled, which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me. Then opened he their understanding, that they might understand the scriptures, and said unto them, Thus it is written, and thus it behooved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day: and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. And ye are witnesses of these things. And, behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you: but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high. And he led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven.”―Luke 24:44-51.

“And while they looked steadfastly toward heaven as he went up, behold two men stood by them in white apparel: which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? this same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven.”―Acts 1:10,11.

MOST people, no doubt, are aware that the Acts of the Apostles comes from the same pen as the Gospel of Luke. Acts is an appendix to the narrative of the Lord’s history on earth. In Luke you get Him going up to heaven; in Acts you get the further truth, that He who has gone up will so come in like manner as He went up. He went up in the clouds; He will return again in the clouds. From earth He was seen to go up; to earth He will be seen to come again. I am not speaking now of the intermediate blessed fact that He is coming into the air for His people, before He is seen from the earth at all, because now I have in view those who are not His people―those who have not received into their hearts this Saviour, the blessed Jesus. On such I want to press this passage in Luke 24, “Thus it behooved Christ to suffer.” Here is the Lord, just before He goes off the earth, leaving this company, who had known and loved Him, to be His witnesses and to tell this tale, that thus it behooved Him to suffer. And oh, if it behooved Him, thus to suffer, is there not something that behooves you, my reader?

Does it not behoove you to repent, and believe, in order to the remission of your sins? If there is an absolute necessity that He should suffer and die, is there no necessity laid on you? What was Christ’s necessity? Why did it behoove Him to suffer? On the one hand, because of the glory of God; On the other hand, because of His deep love to you and me. Was He under sentence of death? Did He need to suffer because of sin? Far be the thought. There was no necessity beyond the necessity that love knows, and the necessity of love is, that it can give itself no rest till it has its object in the place of blessing it would have it in.

It was love brought Christ down, love made Him suffer, love made Him die: it was love, and love alone, infinite love to you and to me. He loves, too, to put on your heart and on mine the weight of His love; and knowing that nothing but suffering could meet our case, He comes down willing to suffer, prepared to suffer. Why? Because you could not be saved if He did not; because I could not be saved if He did not; because if you suffer for your own sins, you must suffer for all eternity: for what mere mortal could exhaust the judgment of God in respect of sin? None! None but an Infinite Being could do this, and Jesus was such, blessed be His name.

None but God could know what sin really was, and what the judgment due to it was; but Jesus is God, and He, as God, knowing what God’s thought was―what the judgment was, came down and bore the judgment Himself. There was the necessity of love, He says, that I should suffer, for man never could be saved if I did not. And when He has borne sins, drained the cup of wrath to the very dregs, and risen up out of all the suffering, He says, Go and tell everyone that it behooved Me to suffer that forgiveness might be preached to the whole world. And where does this forgiveness commence? At the guiltiest spot in the whole world. “Beginning at Jerusalem” are the Lord’s wondrous words. Pardon begins at the very spot where they killed Him. Now let me ask you, Are you forgiven yet? Forgiveness and life eternal are the fruits of the Saviour’s blood, and who may have them? All, all who believe.

Oh, careless man, careless, worldly woman, you who have only lived for pleasure, you who have thought of nothing but pleasure here, have you ever thought of the sufferings of the Saviour?

Have you ever thought that He took that fearful woe that you and I might have weal for eternity, that He took sorrow that you and I might have joy for eternity? Have you ever thought of Him, of Jesus? Has it ever bowed your heart to think of what it cost Him to rescue such as you and me?

Pause and think one moment now. Cast a backward look at His wondrous history, with its close of agony and of shame. Oh, is it nothing to you that for such as you and me, He, the Lord of glory, gives Himself up to be sold for the price of the meanest slave―that He was willing to pass through anything if only He might carry out the deep purpose of His heart, meet the claims of God, burst the bonds of the grave, annul death, break the devil’s power, and save you? Yes, save you; that was the deep purpose of His heart. Have you ever thought of it?

Behold Him in the garden! With torches and weapons his enemies draw near to take Him. How easily might He have escaped; for when He asked the question, “Whom seek ye?” and followed it with “I am He,” they go backward, and fall to the ground. He might have escaped, but what of His people? Listen again. “If ye seek me, let these go their way”―that is, He says, “You may have Me, but you must not have Mine, you shall never have Mine.” Ah, Jesus will give up anything and everything, give up Himself if He may only save you. And this is my Jesus, mine own Saviour, my Lord, my blessed Jesus―mine. Oh, would you not like to be able to say of Him too, “Mine, my Jesus”?

What won my heart was this, “He gave His back to the smiters.” He suffered everything; and was left alone in His grief, for He looked for comforters and found none. And at that moment—when everyone had forsaken Him, and He turned to God―at that moment, when comfort from God would have been the more grateful to His heart, broken by reproaches, that was the very moment that God took to show His hatred of sin, to turn away, even from Christ, when it was laid upon Him, so that He cried in His depth of unfathomable agony, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

There the magnificent depths of His affection came out, for He was willing, yes, I may say willing even for God to forsake Him, that He might vindicate God’s honor, and save you and me. Heaven, and earth, and hell witnessed a stupendous struggle that day a struggle between life and death, between love and hatred; but love is more than conqueror, and Jesus, dying, leaves this precious legacy to every poor sinner. “It is finished!” The work is finished that sets the poor sinner free. Heaven rejoiced with loud hosannas, and hell, I believe, trembled and was dismayed. And what shall earth do? What shall you and I do? Take those words and believe them, and rejoice in them, too, shall we not? Have sympathy with heaven’s joy, shall we not? I will, at any rate, and I counsel you to do the same.

But there is more. He who died has risen again. Angels came down, and rolled away the stone from that tomb where they had laid Jesus. Why did they roll it away, think you? Was it for Him to rise? Far be the thought! No, no! They rolled away the stone that you and I might look in and see that He has risen, see that He is free. Who is free? The sinner’s substitute; your Substitute, if you will take Him as such― the One who, I can say, bore my sins. Can you say that too? He bore my sins, and now He is free, and so am I.

My sin brought in death, but Christ’s death put away my sin; and now the resurrection of Christ is the evidence from God of the value of the work which Christ has accomplished, and which God has accepted, and by virtue of which the sinner is accepted too.

No arch can rest save on two pillars; and what stupendous pillars we have for the arch of faith to rest upon―Christ’s death and Christ’s resurrection! And what about your feelings, do you ask me? I will tell you. My feeling is one of absolute security, resting on such mighty pillars.

But “Repentance” as well as “remission of sins” was to be preached. What is repentance. It is a man judging himself before God. It is not like so many steps you have to climb up in order to be saved; but if you have given heed to God’s testimony, listened to His word, and you have been living in pleasure and sin all your days, you will find you cannot but repent. The Prodigal Son when he turned round and thought of his father, found that he had misspent his life; and, whoever you are, I challenge you, Have you not misspent your life? Oh, answer this question between your heart and God; or at the great white throne you will have to answer it, yea, have there to own―I misspent my life, my life was one great mistake. My heart was not God’s my life was spent in distance from God. I knew not God’s Son; He had no place in my affections or my thoughts.

Is this true of you, dear friend? Oh, how you need forgiveness! for you have lived in a so-called Christian land, possibly have professed to be a Christian too, and have been a hypocrite as well as a sinner, for you have been professing to have what you have not got. To find out “I am not worthy,” that is repentance. The moment I wake up to find what my life has been, I cannot help judging it; that is repentance.

Look at the thief on the cross. Too bad for earth, on the road to hell, he spends his last hours in abusing Christ! Look at it! Hear him abusing Christ. But listen! Jesus is heard to speak. Hearken to what He says: “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” And the man says to himself, “Why, I have been taunting Him, and He is praying for me; what a wretch I am!” And then his neighbor, the other thief, speaks again, and says, “If thou be the Christ, save thyself and us.” And this one says, “Dost thou not fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation, and we indeed justly?” He learns his own case in the presence of Christ, and judges himself, and then he turns to Jesus with, “Lord, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom.” And Jesus says, “Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.”

A few more hours roll away, and this same man, who had taunted and reviled Christ, enters heaves―enters that scene of glory in company with Christ! Too bad for earth, he is just the one for a Saviour to pick up and save. You will find when a man really sees his sin and guilt, that you have no need to preach repentance to him, for he judges, he condemns himself.

And what is the effect of repentance? It is this: If in repentance I condemn myself, I take that work out of God’s hands. Why will a man be condemned by-and-by? Because of his sin. Why will a believer never be condemned? Because he has condemned himself already, taken, as it were, the work out of God’s hands. You must repent, or be judged by God, and if judged by God, be damned. He who says, “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved,” says also, “He that believeth not shall be damned.”

“Oh,” you say, “but I do not believe in being damned.” But Jesus did, and suffered to save us from it.

“But I do not believe in everlasting punishment.” Reader, Jesus did, and underwent the wrath of God that we might never undergo it.

There is repentance on the one hand, and remission of sins on the other. And oh, my friend, will not you take the pardon, the forgiveness, God proclaims, take the life eternal He will give? Decide for God and His Christ; repent, turn around to Jesus! You may not have another day in which to decide this eternally important matter. Yet another hour, another moment, and He may have come back in the cloud for His people. Jesus had taken His own out as far as to Bethany, and lifting up His hands, He blessed them; and while He blessed them He was parted from them, and a cloud received Him out of their sight. He was taken up; and they, with their eyes still fixed, are told, “This same Jesus shall so come in like manner.”

And what is the next thing in the world’s history? The Jesus they have despised and slain, the Jesus they have cast out of this world, shall come back to it, and every eye shall see Him. Would you like Him to come now? “No,” says the unconverted man. Why not? Because you are unprepared, unready, unwashed, unforgiven. My friend, you had better make haste. God says, “Now is the accepted time;” and you had better not put off any longer the grave matter, the eternally important matter, of your soul’s salvation. Oh, trust Jesus with it now, and know the sweetness of His pardoning grace! Oh, gaze on Him, and know that sweet, sweet sense of the remission of sins! For, if you trust Jesus, I can tell you this, God delights to honor those who trust Jesus. How sweet to stand between His first coming and His second! His first coming has made us meet to be where He is; His second coming will place us where He is. His first coming took my sins away; His second coming will take me away. The Christian stands between His first coming and His second. What a thing it is to be a Christian! Who would not belong to Christ? Oh, my friend, will you not decide for Him just now, and, take the eternal life He offers? W. T. P. W.

The Warning Despised; the Warning Heeded.

SOME years ago, after hearing an earnest appeal to the unsaved at a large outdoor meeting, I went through the crowd speaking to one and another about their souls. I remember one young man in particular to whom I spoke, who remarked, “Not tonight.” I remember, too, the smile upon the faces of his companions as I turned away.

A few months after, this young man was shot and instantly killed in a bar-room. Two of his companions had quarreled. One shot at the other, but missed his mark; the ball struck the wrong man, who had only time to cry out, “My God,” and to utter, besides, one or two words before he was dead.

Several years later I was at a large watering-place where frequent meetings of Christians are held. One day, while at a meeting where many were giving testimony for Christ, I was quite anxious to speak, and it was on my mind to relate the circumstance referred to. I stood so long in the heated room that I was obliged to leave it to get into the fresh air. I feared that my opportunity to speak was gone; but I got to a window on the outside, and, after a while, spoke as I desired.

I thought nothing more of this until a few days after, when I noticed a strange young man making himself quite familiar with my little boy, going so far as to purchase a kite for him, and keeping quite near him to see him fly it. I thought, by so often seeing him so near, that the man might be foolish. Quite late in the afternoon, as my boy had some trouble with his kite and I was helping him, the young man approached as if to lend a helping hand; but in a moment, as if he could contain himself no longer, he addressed me by name, saying, “Mr. F―, the remarks you made the other day about the young man who was, shot have so impressed me, that I have been unable to sleep. They have reminded me of the way I have been living, and of my responsibility to God. I fear if I should die I would go to hell.” I remembered that he stood beside me at the window, and I had heard of him as a bold, expert swimmer―one of the finest at the place; a stout, hearty, pleasure-loving man of leisure.

“What would you advise me to do?” he asked, in much distress.

At that time, though a quickened soul, I knew not the power of that Word which has since given me the full assurance of eternal salvation, ―the freedom wherewith the Son makes free, and the many precious things which the Truth brings; and, though I presented to him some of the Lordly precious words as to believing, yet they seemed to fall powerless from my lips, not having then become the power of God unto salvation to my own soul; besides this, I was so blinded by man’s additions to the Word of God, that I thought there was something to be done, and I commended him to the “revival service.” Whatever of error there may be in all this, I have good cause to believe he “found peace in believing” that night. Surely he went home rejoicing, and praising God, and in a loving way thanking me out of an overflowing heart; while my own soul was distressed and needy.

I have since had letters from him, which, though telling of failure, have not failed to speak in the tenderest way of his “dear Saviour.”

I write this as it may prove a warning to some hardened sinner, who may see that “he that, being often reproved, hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy” (Prov. 29:1); and to show, too, how quickly God meets the one who heeds His call. With one young man it was “Not tonight”; with the other it was “Now,” “Tonight”― for he feared he might be in hell before morning.

Dear unsaved reader, will you be warned? Do you say “Not tonight,” as you turn upon your heel with a smile? Beware, lest thou too be cut off suddenly. Or do you cry from the depths of your soul, “What shall I do to be saved?” God answers, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved” (Acts 16:31).

R. T. J. F.

A Brief Word of Exhortation.

SHOULD not the thought of ripening and speedy judgment coming upon the world force on us the naked question―What will separate souls to God? what will place them in a position of permanent security?

It is the blood on the lintel; the lamb roast with fire; it is this aspect of the cross. Our preachers in their preaching should not forget the coming judgment.

The world is rapidly loosening and breaking the bonds that have held it in a measure of godly restraint. Forms of reverence are yielded up words of rebellion against the truth are boldly declared; open hostility to the Christ of God is avowed; not as yet against Christianity, Christian philanthropy, morality, or anything good in it. Christian kindness, charity, goodness, may abound, but not Christ Himself. It is this sad thought which makes the paschal lamb aspect of the scarifies of Christ of such vast importance. At this great propitiatory sacrifice there was no altar, no price; no sweet savor. It is the bare question of divine judgment, and escape from it. Judgment was impending, was about to pass through the land. How were these poor slaves to escape its deadly blow? Blood; blood on the lintel; it alone could save; this one word, “WHEN I SEE THE BLOOD.” could alone avail. This one act, this one word, must come up more increasingly to heart and conscience. Brethren must see to this.

The professing Christian world is stirred with activity, but alas it all tends to the treading down of the cross. We have to recall the hare naked fact that the blood saves the soul from eternal wrath. We must over return to this―the simple value of the blood of the Lamb. We thank God, and praise His name.

“O Lord, we adore Thee,

For Thou art the slain One

That livest forever,

Enthroned in heaven;

O Lord! we adore Thee,

For Thou hast redeemed us;

Our title to glory

We read in Thy blood.”

C. M’A.

"God Says It; Oh, What Joy!"

IN the small village of C—, in France, there lived an honest and respectable family, composed of eight persons, the father, mother, and six children. None of them knew the Lord; but the father, who had been chosen as elder of the national church, made it his pious duty to bring up his children in his own religious way, without, apparently, ever thinking of the state of their souls or his own.

In 1887 some special evangelistic services were held in the village for the first time, and, in a few days, God in His grace blessed the Word to some five persons. Among the number, the oldest daughter of the elder found peace with God through the finished work of Christ, being cleansed from her sins by His precious blood. From thenceforth she had a great deal to suffer, especially from her younger sister B—, who mocked continually at her words. B―was not yet seventeen, but her precocious intelligence, her amusing jests, and her pleasant stories had won for her the general favor of the workpeople at a large silk factory, where she had been employed for some time. All this only helped to render her insensible to her sinful state, and the need of her soul. And the enemy did not fail to foster her popularity, of which she was proud, and to strengthen her belief that she was not a greater sinner than others.

However, she had sometimes consented to accompany her sister to the meeting in a neighboring township, but always sought to avoid the questions, that the gospel preachers addressed to her. It happened that she was present on the 21St of April 1888, when the solemn text was dwelt upon in Romans 3. “All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” The Spirit of God applied the Word to her conscience, and she saw herself a guilty and lost sinner before Him. From that time forth she passed through deep exercises of soul, and followed, with much interest several gospel meetings held by two evangelists, and the words which she heard wrought constantly with power in her heart and conscience. God had begun to work in the place, in several souls, and one after another were brought to a knowledge of Christ in the course of a few weeks. For several days B― lacked peace. The cock of the factory (for such was B―’s nick-name amongst her fellow-workwomen) had ceased to crow, being in anguish of soul, and thinking that she was too great a sinner to receive the pardon of her sins.

On Tuesday, the first of May, her trouble of soul seemed unbearable, her burden crushing, feeling that each day, each hour, she remained as she was, added to her sins and guilt before God. She sought in vain to keep back the tears which the precious words in John 6:47, drew forth, “Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me hath everlasting life.” She felt the weight of them, without being able to apply them to herself. Satan kept whispering “hath not, hath not,” and her own heart, such was her sense of guilt, confirmed it.

However, through the abounding grace of God, at eleven o’clock in the morning, in the midst of her work, the struggle ceased. The living word of the living God had done its living work in her soul. She believed God. In a moment her soul was filled with joy, and letting go her work, she cried out with a voice choked with sobs, “Whosoever―it’s me―I believe―I’m saved―I have eternal life―God says it―oh, what joy!”

This sudden and open confession of Christ caused quite a consternation. The superintendents and the workwomen all around her gazed with astonishment, tears flowing down many faces, as she went on to tell what the Lord had done for her soul, and began to sing, before all, a hymn which runs: ―

“I am Thine, glory to Thy great Name,

O my Saviour, I take sides with Thee;

I am Thine, I Thee now adore,

I am Thine, I am Thine.”

It was some minutes before things flowed on in their usual course. Several around were persons with little or no pretension to religion at all, or openly infidel, but as they witnessed the remarkable action of God’s grace in this soul, some said, “We have seen strange things today. It is like a miracle.” Others, “It is not possible.” And again others, “We have seen something supernatural.” Many saw it, but understood it not. “The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned” (1 Cor. 2:14). The crucifixion of Christ is to them that perish foolishness, but unto us which are saved the power and wisdom of God (1 Cor. 1:23, 24).

B―was saved, and found, like thousands more, that the world with all its pleasures had not been big enough to fill her heart, which now was too small to contain her joy, having found an object in Christ which more than satisfies. God alone knows the effect produced upon the souls which were witnesses of her deliverance from Satan’s power and the mastery of sin, but we would ask each reader of these lines, What impression has all this made upon you? Perhaps you will reply, “Oh, I believe it was all simply emotion and feeling.” It may be true, that the subject of it was in some measure emotional, but every soul who has passed through the exercises connected with conversion to God, can well understand the exuberance of joy when the moment of liberty came.

Ah! some may curl the lip, sneer at the whole thing, and treat it as a sensational story, but it is only to remain in darkness and unbelief, in danger of the eternal judgment of God. Conversion is a reality. Yes, God, Christ, sin, death, and eternal woe are all realities, and deeply solemn realities that you must face. You may shut your eyes, and continue to follow your own self-will, but face God sooner or later you must, either as a Saviour or as a Judge. You cannot get away from Him. He holds you responsible. All the power is in His hand. Bow to Him now as a guilty lost one, confessing your sin, and He will bless you and save you. But continue as you are without Christ, and He will surely banish you from His presence forever.

The salvation of God is very simple. You have naught whatever to do but to judge yourself, and to believe on Him who died. God is for you now, and has shown His great love in the gift of His Son. To refuse or to neglect it, is to expose yourself to His wrath. He accomplished all long, long ago. The work is done, and the One who did it, Jesus, is accepted of God, and glorified in His presence. God Himself presents Him to you as a Saviour. And “if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thy heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved” (Rom. 10:9). Will you take those three shalts together now? Then can you sing: ―

“‘Tis done, the great transaction’s done,

I am my Lord’s, and He is mine;

He drew me, and I followed on,

Glad to confess the voice divine.

Happy day! happy day!

When Jesus washed my sins away.”

E. H. C.

True Liberty.

WHAT a rich and full compendium of the gospel; what a gold mine of peace giving truth we have in Ephesians 2:8, 9, 10! Oh! that many a seeking, doubting, anxious soul, as he now reads these three lovely verses, may through God’s goodness find the object of his search, the dissolution of his doubts, and the end of his anxiety. “For by grace are ye saved, through, faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.”

Now, I don’t think that we could do better than simply take each sentence by itself, and thus analyze the whole.

1. “By grace.”―The grace of God is the source, and only fountain-head. “God is love,” and His grace is that love, in action, on behalf of poor sinners.

2. “Are ye saved.”―Salvation present, full, conscious, and happy, is the result. No room is left for a doubt or a question. It is not “are ye being saved,” as though salvation were progressive. It states an accomplished fact. Other epistles may view salvation as future, but “Ephesians” sees it, as in the light of divine counsels, a present possession.

3. “Through faith.” ―Yes, faith is the hand, empty, poor, and needy, that is put forth to receive the treasure presented by grace. Salvation is, as it were, forced on no one―nor am I viewed and treated as a machine. It comes to me, and becomes mine, on the principle of faith―not by feeling, not by an internal evidence, but by that simple act by which I turn away from myself and look to God. It is “through faith.”

4. “And that not of yourselves.”―Self is not the parent of this salvation. If I had to save myself, how soon would I be lost? If Adam innocent fell under temptation, how soon would I, “in whose flesh no good thing dwells,” fall in like manner? A human salvation must partake of human infirmity, and result in sad imperfection. Hence resolutions reformations, “new leaves,” and all such things, are “of yourselves,” and therefore cannot save.

5. “It is the gift of God.”— A gift, observe, not a thing sold. It is free, like the air. It is so immensely valuable, and I am so absolutely destitute that did it come in the way of sale I could not purchase it. The moral gulf between God and man is so enormous that no engineering skill could bridge the distance. Did God not “devise the means,” we should be left forever on the wrong side. But blessed be His name, “God is love,” and therefore He loved and He gave; and now salvation is His gift. Could six words be found more sweet, more welcome, more precious, than “It is the gift of God?” Do pause, dear reader, and prayerfully, thankfully, ponder and weigh each one of these charming monosyllables.

6. “Not of works.” ―Another short sentence equally important. The ax lies at the very root! The sentry is posted at the gate! The flaming sword turns every way! The king looks for the wedding garment! Heaven refuses the legalist: “Not of works” cuts away all ground of hope in myself. “Not of works” humbles me to the dust, “Not of works” stains my pride, and bids me “make haste and come down.” “Not of works” tells me that my righteousnesses are as filthy rags. “Not of works” gives me my true place as a poor guilty sinner, utterly at the mercy of God, and bids me renounce all confidence in myself. “By the deeds of the law shall no flesh be justified in His sight.”

“Not the labor of my hands

Can fulfill thy law’s demands.”

6. “Lest any man should boast.”―If I could reach heaven by dint of my works, then I should boast forever of my powers. I should worship, not God, but myself. The pride that ruined Lucifer would swell my bosom, and stiffen my neck through eternity. But the God that drove out the angels for this sin would not allow it in others. Nay, He condemns it now. All boasting in self is annulled; it has no possible place. It is neither pride, nor arrogance, nor boasting, for the believer to say he is saved. It is “not of works” (but of grace), lest any man should boast.

7. “For we are his workmanship.”―What could be more absolute? We speak of God creating the world out of nothing, and so He did; the world is His workmanship. But whilst He displayed wisdom, and design, and skill in that creation, how much more was needed on His part to make us (sinners) His workmanship? In this the whole question of sin had to be settled. Mere power could not suffice. An answer had to be found to the effects of sin and the works of Satan. Sin had to be atoned for, and ultimately banished. And how? “Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world.” A complete answer is found in the death and resurrection of the Son of God. Satan, sin, death, the grave, all find their answer there, so that God is now free, in righteous grace, to make us His workmanship―make us the fair vessels of His mercy, and the glad recipients of His salvation.

8. “Created in Christ Jesus unto good works.”―It is a new creation, indeed. It is not the old renewed, nor altered, nor improved; it is a creation in Christ Jesus―an entirely different order of things―a creation into which the serpent may not intrude with any prospect of victory as of old, and where, in man, mere innocence has given place to righteousness, and where the possibility of failure is precluded by the very fact of that creation being, not in nature, but “in Christ Jesus.” That creation cannot fail, though meanwhile we who are “created in Christ Jesus” may, alas! do so, as still in the body. Yet just as God embellished and beautified the first creation, placing in Eden flowing rivers and fruitful trees, so in us the lovely fruits of “good works” are to decorate the new―exquisite proofs of the character of the salvation that our God has given us. It is not “of works,” but it is “unto good works.” They are the evidence before men that our salvation finds its source and strength in the grace of God.

9. “Which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.”―No other conduct could please God. His children must walk after Him. He is holy, so are they. We are to walk in the ways of good works. If we do not, it is but a proof that we are not His children, and that we are strangers to His salvation. No path is so truly happy, no so divinely free, as that of obedience to God, the performance of those good works to which every true believer is called.

Dear reader, may God use the wealth of truth contained in these three verses to carry most positive blessing to your soul, that you may be saved, and know it, and then boldly confess it, and live daily in the bright unclouded sunshine of it, to His praise and glory.

J. W. S.

Have Mercy on Your Children!

AN evening party was being held at a lady’s house who was a skeptic, and in the family there was a little girl, in whom God was graciously working, and who was alarmed about the condition of her own soul, and evidently that of her parents also.

When the party had assembled, this young girl was in another room, and the solemn realities of eternity were pressing on her soul, and she wept much as she thought of her dear mother, whom she knew to be a skeptic.

The mother came to her to know the cause of her trouble.

The daughter replied, “O MAMMA, WON’T IT BE AWFUL IF WE DON’T GO TO THE SAME PLACE?”

Sad to say, that though the words of the child made an impression for the moment, the poor mother lapsed back into her former thoughts, and would even prevent her very child from hearing the gospel.

A household where Christ is not known and recognized is a dark, dreary habitation. “I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life” (John 8:12). It follows, then, that those who do not follow the Lord Jesus Christ are “walking in darkness,” and rejecting the message of God concerning Him. He is to them a “stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense.” How deeply solemn to know that the blessed Christ of God, the only Saviour for sinful men, is made to those “who stumble at the Word, being disobedient,” a stone of stumbling, aver which they stumble into hell!

It is a solemn thing to reject Christ the Son of God! READER, ARE YOU DOING IT? That once crucified Christ can save you now, ― “today, if ye will hear his voice,”―but tomorrow you may be where mercy’s voice will never be heard. Remember, it is written, that Christ is “the light of the world;” but it is never said that He is the light of hell. Let that light then flood your soul, and illumine your whole being. Christ is light, life, righteousness, and salvation to every needy soul that trusts Him. Come, just as you are, my friend; come now, put your whole undivided trust in Him. Is He not worthy? Think of His glorious Person: He is the eternal Son of God. Think of His work on the cross, for He is Son of Man too, and, blessed be His name, He died for sinful men. How worthy of your trust! How able to save you, and that forever! And being saved, what a Being to serve in time and eternity!

It is a solemn thing to be fathers and mothers, the heads of families, and yet unsaved, and not only unsaved, but, by precept and example, to hinder the very children, you have been the means of bringing into this world, from coming to Christ.

Alas! there are many such. Cavilers at the Word, rejecters of the Son of God, despisers of His salvation, Cain-followers, they would rather see their children damned with themselves, than let them come under the light and influence of the gospel, and be saved.

Reader! are you a bold rejecter, a scoffer at the holy Son of God? Perhaps you have a tender child, a girl or boy; blight not, I beseech you, that tender soul; darken not the mind of that one with your hell-born doctrines against the Son of God. I pray you, by the love you have for your child, educate him not in your system of wicked perversities, which can only make him “a child of hell” with yourself. Think of spending an eternity out of God’s presence, and there beholding your very child that you gave birth to, whom you have been the means of darkening and perverting, and whom (as far as in you lay) you kept from Christ! What an eternal pang for your heart! And how your very being will be overwhelmed with bitter and eternal remorse!

My friend, send your children to hear the gospel, that they may be saved; and if you are determined to go to hell yourself, be not the means, in Satan’s hands, of their destruction.

“The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God” (Psa. 9:17).

E. A.

How to Get the Blessing.

SOME young people were having a lesson on. Mark 10:17, about the young man who came to Jesus with the question, “What shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?” and how he had gone away again without the blessing.

When the lesson was finished, their teacher told them to read the four verses which precede the 17th, about the young children who had been brought to Jesus. He then asked them, “Did the children get the blessing?” “Yes,” they all answered. “And what did they do to get it?” “They let themselves be brought to Jesus,” said one girl. “Did they do anything more?” asked the teacher. There was a short pause, and then the youngest present answered, with simple earnestness, “Yes they let Jesus bless them.”

What a beautiful answer, and how true! “Then took he them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them,” and they let Him do it.

Have you been brought to Jesus? and have you let Him bless you? If not, you do not yet know what true happiness is. Take heed that you do not stumble at the simplicity of the gospel. Remember He says, “Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein” (Mark 10:15), Y. Z.

"I'm All Right, Sir;" or, "Do You Know the Lord?"

WHEN preaching the Word of God some years since in the town of B―, in Devonshire, I was urgently requested by a Christian lady to visit a young man, evidently dying, but, she feared, not yet converted. The time at my disposal only permitted a visit just before a gospel meeting, on the afternoon of the Lord’s Day, and, the hour having been fixed, the young man was awaiting my arrival, it having been arranged that I should see him alone. He had been some months ill, and often confined to bed; but when I knocked at the door of the clean, and exquisitely tidy little house in which he lived, he himself opened it, and bade me welcome.

One glance at the pallid face, with its sunken, yet bright, unnaturally bright, eye, the heaving nostril, and high cheek-bone, combined with the emaciation that had left him little more than skin and bones, told me that his time was short, and that ere long he would be hurried into eternity by the ruthless ravages of consumption. He told me his history, the date of his illness, the illusive hopes of recovery, the failure of all treatment, the wasting of his strength, &c.; but that, hearing I was a doctor, he thought he would like to know my opinion of his case. It was needless, but I examined his chest, only to find evidences of the most extensive lung-destruction compatible with life.

When I had done, he said very quietly, “Well, sir, what do you think of my case?”

“Has not your own medical man told you?” I replied.

“No, sir; I could never get any one to tell me my true state, but I want very much to know.”

I could only reply to him, “You are very ill, my dear fellow.”

“Do you think I shall get better, sir?”

“I cannot hold out any hopes of recovery,” I gently rejoined.

“But do you think I am near death?”

“It is quite impossible,” I replied, “for me to say positively, but I fear you cannot last very long.”

“Thank you, sir, for telling me so plainly,” was his immediate reply, while I noticed that he was quite unmoved or startled; “I always thought it was so, but I could get no one to tell me the truth.”

His queries were all over, and now I felt my turn had come, so I passed on with, “You do not seem to be at all distressed by my opinion of your approaching end; may I ask, Are you prepared to die?”

“Oh, yes, thank you, sir; my mind is quite made up on that point.”

“That is very nice,” I said; “and what is the ground of your confidence?”

“Oh, I have thought a good deal on these things, and when I was able, of course, I went to church, and I have read my Bible, and prayed; and I am all right, thank you, sir.”

“All that you have spoken of is very good in its way,” I rejoined, “but still it will not avail before God. You have need, as a sinner, to be washed in the precious blood of Christ. Do you think you have known the blessedness of that yet?”

“Thank you, sir,” he politely replied; “I think I’m all right on that score, and I’m not afraid to die.” “But have you been converted?” I persisted.

“Oh, I’m all right, sir.”

“Then you are quite sure you ARE saved?” I replied.

“Thank you very much, sir, for your interest in my soul’s welfare, but I think I may say, I’m all right;” and again the glib “all right” fell from his lips. But the more he strove to persuade me he was “all right,” the more deep became the conviction in my mind that he was all wrong, as the issue will show, for in all his replies you will notice there was not one word about Jesus, and the soul that is not “right” about Him is all wrong, depend upon it.

My time was gone, and I had to leave, feeling that, like a skillful swordsman, he had effectually parried every one of my thrusts, and it was with real sadness I now, on rising, took his hand and bade him good-bye. Again he thanked me for my visit; so, still holding his hand, I said, “I never expect to see you again on earth, shall I see you in heaven?”

“I hope so,” was the faltering reply.

“Well,” I answered, “I am sure, through grace, I shall be there, because of that which the Lord Jesus has done for me; why then are you saying, ‘I hope’? If you know Him, you may be certain of it, even as I am.”

He made no reply; so, looking him full in the face, I said, “I have but one more question to ask, will you answer it?”

“I will if I can, sir.”

“Tell me, then, do you know the Lord?”

“I―I beg pardon, sir, I don’t quite understand you.”

“You don’t understand my question?”

“No, sir, I don’t quite know what you mean.”

“Oh,” I replied, “I mean, do you really, truly know the Lord Jesus?”

Again he replied that he did not comprehend my query.

“Why, it is very simple,” I added; “I will explain myself, however. It is one thing to know about, or of a person, and another thing to know that person, is it not?”

“Quite so,” was his answer.

“For instance,” I went on, “Miss M― (naming the lady who brought us together) told you about me, and told me about you; thus we each knew of each other, but could not say we knew each other.”

“Certainly not, sir.”

“But now, having met, seen, and conversed with each other, if any one asked you tomorrow if you knew me, what would you say?”

“I should, of course, say that I knew you,” was the firm reply.

“Well, then, my dear friend, that is what I meant by my question, for it is the most real thing possible to meet, by faith to see; and to converse with the Lord Jesus Christ. This only is eternal life, as He Himself said, ‘And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent’ (John 17:3). And now I ask again, DO YOU KNOW THE LORD?”

He paused a moment, and then, with evident perturbation of spirit, rejoined, “I cannot reply to that question, sir, but I promise you I will think of it.”

“Farewell,” I cried, as I wrung his hand and hurried off to the meeting, lifting my heart to God that this last query might be an arrow of conviction as to his true state, for to me it was clear he was unsaved, and knew it not, standing on the verge of a Christless eternity; for if Christ be not known here, how can one know Him there?

I saw him no more. Three weeks after my visit he died, and soon afterward I received, through Miss M―, the message he sent from his deathbed to me. It was to the effect that my last question, “Do you know the Lord?” had gone like an arrow to his heart. He weighed it in the solemn silence of the night, and found he did not know Him. He knew many things about Him, but Jesus, the Lord Himself, he did not know. Terrible was the discovery. The foundations of his peace and rest were all broken up. He saw he had been resting on self, on what he himself had been doing for salvation. This discovery was followed by ten days of deep anxiety, as he realized his ruined, lost state. Then the Lord had revealed Himself to his troubled heart. He trusted Jesus simply. He could now say he knew Him, not merely knew of Him. Another ten days of peace and joy in Christ followed, and then he passed away to be forever with the Lord, giving a bright testimony for Jesus and His finished work, as the sole resting-place of his soul, ere he departed.

And now, dear reader, “DO YOU KNOW THE LORD?” It will be an easy matter for you to give a decided answer on the spot, for you will fully comprehend its import. Oh, how much hangs on the reply! Heaven or hell, and that for eternity. If, like Paul, you can say, “I know whom I have believed” (2 Tim. 1:12), happy is your case. Forgiven, cleansed, washed, justified, a child of God, a joint-heir with Christ, you stand now at peace with God, in all the favor of. His love, just waiting for translation to that scene of brightest glory into which Jesus will usher you when He comes to gather up “his own” to be forever with Himself. But if, alas, like Pharaoh, you have to reply, “I know not the Lord” (Exod. v. 2), terrible is your case. Uncleansed, unforgiven, unwashed, guilty, Christless, LOST! you stand in a position of imminent danger, for the Word of God hath declared, “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him” (John 3:36). Lose no time, I beseech thee, in coming to the Lord. Oh, list the word that says, “Acquaint now thyself with him, and be at peace; thereby good shall come unto thee” (Job 22:21). You can never have peace till you acquaint yourself with God. Fear not to cast yourself upon Him, He is “the God of peace.” Doubtless you know much about Him, and, belike, in this you have rested until now. My friend, this is not eternal life. To know Him alone is that. Eternal life it is thou needest; this He gives to all who will take it from His hands by faith in Jesus, His beloved Son. “The wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom. 6:23). Be simple, cast away all thought of self, good or bad; come straight to God through faith in Jesus, taste His grace, believe His love, receive His gift, eternal life; know Himself, and henceforth let thy whole life be a witness for that blessed God, who “so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish; but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).

“How happy the man whose heart is set free,

The people, O God, that are joyful in Thee!

Their joy is to walk in the light of Thy face,

Forever to talk of Thy mercy and grace.”

W. T. P. W.

"What Shall I Do?"

No. 1.

“The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully: and he thought within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits? And he said, This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But God said unto him, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?”―Luke 12:16-20.

THRICE in the same gospel―that of Luke―do we find the above question, and first in chapter 12. This rich man was, evidently, more than the mere tenant of the land. He was proprietor, and his ground was highly prolific. He was clearly a shrewd, industrious man of business; and, as a matter of course, his success elicited no small measure of praise at the market, and amongst the agricultural community of his district. He could afford to congratulate himself on his good fortunes. Now, one season appears to have been specially fruitful. The summer and autumn of that year had escaped the blight of east wind, and the drought of excessive heat, while the land was cooled and nourished by gentle showers. The result was a splendid crop; plenty of grain, and straw, and garden fruits cheered his soul; in fact the field never yielded such copious returns, nor was such a store of rich provision ever carried home.

So far so good! But the question of the disposal of these stores became difficult.

“What shall I do?” said the man, “for I have no room where to bestow my fruits.”

“No room!” Were there no poor in the neighborhood, none, like Lazarus, who desired to be fed with crumbs? Was there no opening in that direction, none of the Lord’s needy ones, by giving to whom he would lend to the Lord Himself?

Was there no possibility of thus laying up in store a good foundation against the time to come―the long tomorrow? Such a thought does not appear to have struck his mind. Alas! self and the present sufficed to engross him.

And, so, lying on his pillow, awake during the hours of that awfully critical night, he works out a fatal answer to his question. The cogitations of his busy brain arise from the cravings of his selfish heart. And he said, “This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater.” I will “add house to house.” But he was quite at liberty to do this, for the barns were his own. He carefully thought out plans of architecture, the shape, the size needed for his goods, &c., so that in these enlarged farm-steadings he might “bestow all his fruits and his goods,” without scarcity of accommodation. In this carefully planned granary he could securely deposit the rich revenue of his land. In it no moth should destroy; into it no thief should dare to come. All his fruits should be preserved intact. Perhaps so! but does the preservation of your merchandise guarantee the security of your life?

Are yourself and your goods the same? Ah well, that matter may lie over until, at least, the urgent question of business be first settled. Time enough for that by-and-by!

Meanwhile, “I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years.” The pinch of poverty, and the difficulty of getting ends to meet, need cause no trouble, because the “much goods” for the “many years” dispel all such cares!

“Many years!” how many?

And, therefore, he continues his soliloquy, “Take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry.” Much goods warrant easy times, and not only so, but times of festivity and glee. What an unclouded prospect, what a fortunate man! So, perhaps, he thought.

And, then, the difficult calculation over, his eyes begin to close, and his wearied brain to relax its grasp of things around.

Slumber succeeds as the deep shades of night fall upon his couch. But that slumber was of short duration―those “many years” were to terminate quickly, and that ease to give place to unexpected trouble. A voices solemn and mysterious, was heard, the voice of One who had been listening to this otherwise secret scheme of self-aggrandizement, and who, unbidden, had been a party to the whole affair. No man had been called to advise; no human ear had been informed of the plan for the many years of pleasure. “But God said unto him, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee.”

Yes, God knew all about it He knew about the larger barns, the stored-up goods, the many years of anticipated ease, the eating, drinking, and merrymaking, all so quietly arranged. (“Thou knowest my thought afar off.”) Who dare interfere with the disposal of his barns? They were his own.

Well, but the tenancy of his life was over. The term had come. He had no proprietorship over it, nor might he arrange for “many years,” no, not even for one.

And for doing so God called him a “fool.”

Ah! the folly of excluding God from your daily reckonings. “Thou knowest not what a day may bring forth.”

And so the “many years” of pleasure were reduced to a few minutes of slumber, for, like a thief in the night, the iron hand of death put a sudden end to all the new-formed projects of this “certain rich man.”

And the barns were never built, and the crops never stored, and the ease and merriment, so cleverly designed, never enjoyed by him—never!

His “What shall I do?” had for its object his own present gratification. He left God out of his calculations, and his plan was frustrated accordingly. His future was utterly disregarded by him. “Many years” took in his soul the place that eternity should have had.

“Fool,... thy soul... this night... then”!! It is a dangerous thing to traffic with the soul. Your crops and barns may be your own, but your soul belongs to another―it is God’s property. Take care lest you deem it yours. Your tenancy is of an indefinite continuance. The term may be at hand! How stand the affairs of your soul? Are you rich toward God? Are you right with God? If not, dear reader, delay not one moment in coming to Christ, lest this night terminate your little tenancy here.

J. W. S.

Some Particulars in the History of the Conversion of a Soul.

I FORGET how many hands a pin passes through before it is complete, but I remember as a child how astonished I was when I was told the number; and all of us who by God’s grace are Christians, would be still more astonished were we able to count the number of special and particular agencies which God, in his great goodness and mercy, has used on our behalf to bring us to Christ, before we can say we are complete in Him.

In so-called Christian England this is especially the case, the gospel generally being heard, in part at least, again and again; and the Word of God constantly reed in our hearing publicly, if not privately, in our churches, chapels, and elsewhere from childhood to old age; not to speak of books, essays, periodicals, tracts, and a thousand and one other influences. And yet how hard is the human heart, how insensible to divine grace, how averse to the love of God, how full of unbelief? Every fiber of our constitution seems rank with this curse, so skeptical is it of divine goodness and love; and so inherent is this skepticism in our very being, that we instantly query every statement that meets us of this love, no matter in what form.

Thus it is a wonder any soul is ever saved; and it were indeed impossible had not God undertaken for us. All other powers, either heavenly or earthly, were plainly impotent and useless.

What a thought for a lost British soul, that it has withstood all these agencies, this continual calling of God, this constant refusal! It seems a soul born in any other European country has not nearly such a weight of responsibility; for the most part an Italian, or French, man or woman seldom hears the good news, and though they will be without excuse, how much more a lost Englishman! If he lifts up his eyes, being in torment, he cannot even plead he had only Moses and the prophets―he had Christ the Son of God, and the Saviour God also, and refused Him. He will have ample time to reflect on it in hell; the story of the cross, of redeeming love refused and rejected, will add indescribable remorse to those terrible reflections.

The earliest links in the chain of my remembrances of things eternal are the following verses, which I said every night as a small child: ―

“Almighty God, Thy piercing eye

Strikes through the shades of night,

And our most secret actions lie

All open to Thy sight.

There’s not a sin that we commit,

Or wicked word we say,

But in Thy dreadful book ‘tis writ

Against the judgment day.”

Now, strange to say, I did not dread that “piercing eye” so very much, though I did not like it, and used to dream about it, but that “dreadful book” I did fear, and feared greatly. To have all my most secret actions entered up regularly, certainly did awe me, because the hymn went on to say they were all to be read out, ―that was awful.

My parents were Christians, my mother manifestly so, and she used to take me into her bedroom and kneel down and pray beside me; I used to hate it, and yet I felt awed by it.

At that time we went to a chapel; but a temporary church being put up within walking distance from my home, and the clergyman appointed being a child of God, my parents were induced “to take sittings” in this building, and thus, as is often said, “sat under” a godly minister; and there, for the first time I remember in my life, I heard some of the mysteries of the gospel. This clergyman was what is sometimes called a hyper-Calvinist, or very near it, and used to preach so much about God’s sovereignty, and so little of man’s responsibility, that at times I regarded him as a sort of fatalist; but one Sunday he made a memorable statement in his sermon, which I never forgot, and never shall.

He said, “My hearers, have you ever had a real desire toward God, toward Jesus Christ, ―just one real desire, just one? If you have, that is not of the flesh, but of the Spirit; and He who has begun a good work in you, will continue it unto the end; and I pledge my soul for yours at the great judgment day for the truth of what I say.”

It was the latter part that particularly arrested and interested me. Ah! I thought, I have had a desire, a real desire, toward Jesus; I know I have, and therefore that is a bargain between us, if I am lost I will plead for your soul against mine. I entered into a solemn contract in my mind, and kept that good man’s soul in pawn for my own.

Thus things went on for years until I was quite grown up, but I always kept that bargain in my mind as a last resource. I felt somehow there is truth in what he said, and it will all come right; meantime I had his soul in pawn for mine.

I used to read philosophical books, and religious books of various kinds, and puzzled my head over the origin of sin, predestination, and a hundred other things, all to no purpose; then for a time I tried “ritualism,” but it was unsatisfying, all artificial, too human altogether, a thing I could set up and do myself any time I liked. I felt I had the shell of things and no reality, nothing my wretched soul could rest satisfied in, or could as it were feed on and be at peace.

So time went on, and a few more valuable years were wasted. At last, through my brother, I heard of a lady who spoke of a present known salvation, and peace with God for all who would have it. I was led to seek an interview with this lady, on the condition I should see her alone. I had a great dread of getting to know a lot of funny religious people, with long faces and solemn manners, and being taken possession of by them. So I made a strict covenant I was only to see this lady.

I went to the house, and was shown into the drawing-room. Soon the lady came in, with a bright smiling sympathizing face. I felt at ease at once, and soon began to tell her my difficulties. She listened, and then asked me to listen to her for a short time. I consented. She first explained to me very clearly my condition as an utterly lost sinner, without God, and without hope in the world, and with the wrath of God abiding on me. She then took up two card-cases which were lying on a table, one a beautiful white mother-of-pearl case, and the other a dark, deeply-marked, and veined tortoise-shell case; she then placed the white one on the dark one, and held them up close together, the dark one facing me, the white one herself. “Now,” she said, “for the sake of making it clear to you, will you allow me by way of illustration to suppose that you are this dark case, deeply veined and marked by sin, and this pure and beautiful pearl case is the Lord Jesus. Now the Lord Jesus, though man, was the Son of God, and was crucified for sinners, ―for you; if you will take your place as such. God has accepted the death of His Son, and for His sake accepts those that trust in Him. Thus if you are sheltered by Christ, covered as it were by Him, As this white case covers this dark one, then are you as Christ is in God’s sight,—clean, washed whiter than snow; but take the white case away, and leave you before God in your own colors, there you are vile, and stained with sin, and exposed to the full wrath and judgment of God against it and you.”

Then she urged me, in solemn and affectionate words, to take refuge in “The Rock of Ages, cleft for me,” to cast away my doubts and disputing’s, and to trust wholly, solely, to the love and mercy of God, as shown in the work and person of Jesus.

I went home much impressed, and went to bed and tried to throw it off and think of it again in a little while, and not to decide just then, but I could not. As I lay awake the idea came to me, You must decide it now for good and all, or leave it alone. One way or the other, I felt the crisis had come, and something must be decided. I dreaded to throw it all overboard, and yet I could not bring myself to naked trust, just simply to trust. I revolted at the idea, and yet I felt I dared not let that night pass; I must come to some terms with God and my soul.

I wished to solve twenty questions, but there was no time now; and there seemed nothing for it but to throw myself unreservedly on God, and just trust His love and mercy for forgiveness on account of the work of Christ. But then I thought, Suppose I don’t feel anything when I have done it, it will be terrible; suppose I find it all a fiction, a sort of mental trick performed by my will, and no results or reality in it! I quite shuddered at the idea; I felt I should have committed a sort of moral bankruptcy, and I should ever after be a hardened skeptical wretch, who not only did not believe in God, but did not even believe in goodness; and I could plainly see my life would be a wreck, full of wickedness, and end in some early or dreadful death.

This brought me back again to the question of trusting God and being at peace with Him; but it seemed so terribly difficult just to trust, to give up all my reason, and sense, and reading, and just to say, “Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief.”

At last, after going over it again and again, and ever coming back to the same point of simple trust, I was enabled, by a huge effort, to turn resolutely from myself, to shut out all questionings, and turn to the Lord and say, in very desperation, I do trust Thee Lord, help Thou my unbelief. The deed was done. I lay on my bed quite exhausted. I felt quite faint and ill; in a little time I was sick, and then lay down again quite prostrated. For an hour or two I lay like this quite helpless, and in a sort of state of vacuity of mind. I had no power to think; I simply lay and did nothing, and felt nothing except a sense of calm after a storm.

Presently a sweet sense came over me that after all I had only trusted God, and who better could I trust? What a fool I had been to doubt Him, and to be so dreadfully upset about so simple a thing! and then the conviction came that I was forgiven, and that all Christ’s work was for me. I was covered with the white card-case; joy of course followed: ―I felt, Well, I don’t care what happens now, joy or sorrow, success or disappointment, it is all one to me, and none of it can last long.

I was very fond of riding, and I remember thinking I had got over a big ugly fence, and there was nothing now but green sward for the rest of my galloping. My subsequent Christian experience has modified this opinion, and I have found plenty inside and out to check such easygoing. Still, my new first love was bright, and I was serenely and quietly happy; and He whom I have trusted I have never had cause to doubt, and never shall, and neither will my reader, if he is led to make the same blessed experiment.

“Naught can stay our steady progress,

More than conquerors we shall be,

If our eye, whate’er the danger,

Looks to Thee, and none but Thee.”

F. F. R.

"Be Not Deceived."

“Be not deceived; God is not mocked: whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”―Galatians 6:7.

VERY sudden death, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, very.”

“And somewhat remarkable that he should have fallen just at that particular time.”

“To what do you refer?”

“Why, did you not see the report? He was personating Mephistopheles, and was in the act of carrying Faust down to the pit when he staggered and seemed to want something to hold on by. So an eye-witness told a friend of mine. And next he fell on the floor of the trap, and died in a few minutes.”

“Yes, that certainly was an odd time in which to die. Some of these religious people talk about seeing the finger of God in it; they, of course, are sure to use a thing of this kind to illustrate their tenets.”

“Oh, yes! there are plenty who will want to point the moral; but no doubt the man had a weak heart or something of that sort, and the extra exertion just at that particular time was too much, and the weak part gave way. Of course, one would not choose to die while in the act of personating the devil―carrying down a man who had sold himself to him for so many years of pleasure to be gone through first―but it has to come some time, and this was that actor’s time no doubt.”

“Of course; but, by the way, did you hear about the scene at the grave?”

“I heard that there was something irregular, but didn’t happen to see the report.”

“Why, the clergyman fainted while reading the burial service, and they say that it was just at the time when he should have spoken that part about the committing to the grave in a sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection; and a fellow-actor had to finish the reading. Of course my religious friends think this a kind of double argument.”

“Oh! of course they wouldn’t overlook that. A pure coincidence, or perhaps the parson had known the man, and was overcome at the suddenness of his death. Anyway, the play goes on as usual, and somebody else is now playing the same part, and he hasn’t died yet, so that will tone down your friends’ judgment’ views.”

Just so, my reader, but “be not deceived, God is not mocked.” We will not offer any opinion as to the point discussed above, but we do say, let it be a warning note to you. You, perhaps, are going on, thinking of nothing but pleasure and amusement. This man died in the act of affording amusement to a large audience. You know that your time to leave this scene must come. This man’s time came just at the moment when neither he himself nor anyone else expected it; yours may come similarly.

Are you prepared to face it? What are you sowing? What yield do you expect from the wild oats of amusement, and the tares of worldly pleasure?

God says, “He that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption” (Gal. 6:8). What are you going to reap?

Be not deceived. These are evil days―days in which the devil is busy deceiving; days in which men deceive and are deceived. What is before you? Do you say that the death at such a time of the man referred to above, and the incident at the grave, and so forth, were mere coincidences? We give you no opinion, but we do say that the time comes when God does show His hand, though He is wondrous in long-suffering.

Noah preached for over a hundred years, and there was no sign of coming judgment; but the set time having come, “all the high hills that were under the whole heaven were covered” (Gen. 7:19).

The sun rose as usual on the morn of Sodom’s doom, but ere evening, “the Lord... overthrew those cities, and all the plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities” (Gen. 19:24, 25).

Pharaoh said, “Who is the Lord that I should obey his voice to let Israel go? I know not the Lord, neither will I let Israel go” (Ex. 5:2). But the time was not far distant when “Israel saw the Egyptians dead upon the sea shore” (Ex. 14:30).

Nebuchadnezzar said, “Is not this great Babylon, that I have built for the house of the kingdom, by the might of my power, and for the honor of my majesty?” (Dan. 4:30). And the predicted “voice from heaven” said, “The kingdom is departed from thee.” Nebuchadnezzar fell.

Belshazzar went on and on, pleasing himself, and by-and-by had a feast if feasts, but in the very midst of it he has to hear the words of the prophet― “Thou hast lifted up thyself against the Lord of heaven; and they have brought the vessels of his house before thee, and thou and thy lords, thy wives and concubines, have drunk wine in them; and thou hast praised the gods of silver,... AND THE GOD IN WHOSE HAND THY BREATH IS, AND WHOSE ARE ALL THY WAYS, HAST THOU NOT GLORIFIED”... “In that night was Belshazzar the king of the Chaldeans slain” (Dan. 5:23, 30).

Eighteen hundred years ago Peter wrote, as inspired by the Holy Ghost, “There shall come in the last days scoffers, walking after their own lusts, and saying, Where is the promise of his coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation” (2 Peter 3:4). And we see in these last days plenty of these scoffers, as one of the evidences to us that the last days are here.

“BE NOT DECEIVED, GOD IS NOT MOCKED.” Men are deceived, they think that God is mocked. Be not deceived.

Let this striking incident which has just lately happened within a few minutes’ walk of where the writer now sits, whether a mere coincidence or not, speak to you. God has said that “there is no other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved” (Acts 4:12), but the name of His beloved Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, who died to save us from that doom, the realities of which men parody for amusement.

Do you believe in this name? Do you know this One? ARE YOU SAVED?

Christ Jesus Came into the World to Save Sinners.

MANY years ago a man named B. and his wife were living in charge of an ancient house in the country, ―the wife being a godly woman, happy in the love of God, and rejoicing in the Lord Jesus as her Saviour; on the other hand, her husband was bitterly opposed to that grace of God which had brought salvation to her, but to which he was himself a stranger.

He could find no fault with her as a woman, or as a wife, but allowed the bitterness of his heart often to express itself in the most ungoverned way. Sometimes at breakfast or at tea, with no provocation and giving no reason, he would rise from the table, and dash the tea-things to pieces, and break everything in his way. At other times he would blaspheme and rail against God in an awful way.

Upon one occasion in particular, the wife had made the place clean and comfortable on the Saturday, and, as usual, on the Lord’s day morning went to a meeting. In her absence he scattered a quantity of dirt over the floor, and, with a pair of very dirty shoes, took as much pains to grind it into the floor as she had to make it clean, hoping by this means to provoke her to swear. Upon her return, she felt grieved, but said nothing; prepared the dinner, and helped him to the nicest piece she could find. He burst into tears, exclaiming, “Surely there never was such a woman as you, or such a man as I am.” The impression then made, however, wore off, and he continued the same. One evening he struck her a violent blow on the head, which knocked her down, when, taking up a knife, he threatened with fearful oaths to plunge it into her heart. This went on for full thirteen years, till she was almost in despair about her husband, thinking that he was a lost man, and that it was useless to pray for him; but the Blessed One, who came to seek and to save the lost, had His eye upon them both, comforted her, and proved, as often before, that man’s extremity is God’s opportunity.

The Lord laid this bold blasphemer upon a bed of sickness, where he was visited by many, who prayed and talked with him, apparently to no purpose; among others the rector of the parish, who, upon leaving, handed him some tracts, one of which, entitled “The Prodigal Son,” was used of God as a mirror to show him himself, and he at once said, “I am the man.” He made no excuses for his sins, nor promises of amendment, but, in the deepest distress, cried to the Lord for mercy. After much exercise of heart, he believed in that blessed Lord who had died for him, and found that the One whom he had opposed had loved him with an everlasting love, and through grace he could rejoice and triumph in the Lord Jesus Christ as his Saviour.

The Lord raised him up from his bed of sickness, and made him a living witness for Himself, as one who had known the Father’s kiss of love; the best robe, the ring, and the shoes. The wife, too, could rejoice with him; while he, though forgiven of God, knew not how to forgive himself.

Dear reader, the above is given as a true record of the grace of Him of whom it was said, and is still true, that He receives sinners. Have you known His love, believed in Him, and confessed His blessed Name? Then take comfort in the thought, that He is still the same, yesterday, today, and forever; and He who answered, after long trial, the poor patient wife, and gave her the desire of her heart, knows the desire and hears the prayer of every one that calls upon Him. But, oil the other hand, if still at a distance from Him, if still sinning against Him, oh, think what a Saviour you are sinning against, what grace you are refusing, what love you are repelling! It is now nearly nineteen hundred years since He came into this world, to seek and to save that which was lost; every day brings nearer that moment when the Master of the house will rise and shut to the door; and then, WITHIN will be the joys and delights of heaven; WITHOUT, the horrors and woes of an eternity in the blackness of darkness forever, where a ray of hope will never come, where their worm dieth not, and where their fire is not quenched. Now, the Blessed Jesus says, “Come unto me;” “Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely,” “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” THEN He will say, “I never knew you,” “Depart from me.”

The devil’s lies, or man’s reasonings and opposition, can never alter the solemn fact that there is an eternity of blessedness on the one hand, an eternity of unending woe on the other. The same lips that now say, “Come,” will say “Depart.” Now is the day of salvation. The Lord Jesus Christ died upon the cross for sinners, according to that wondrous love of God, who “so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” To Him be all praise, glory, and honor forever and ever, Amen.

“Call them in―the broken-hearted,

Cow’ring ‘neath the brand of shame;

Speak love’s message low and tender,

‘Twas for sinners Jesus came.”

J. C. B.

"As He Is, so Are We."

“As he is, so are we in this world.”―1 John 4:17.

OH! blessed wondrous words,

As Christ is, so are we;

Washed, sanctified, and justified,

From condemnation free.

Emancipating truth!

“As he is, so are we;”

He bore our sins,

He paid our debt,

When hanging on the tree.

The Father sees us now

In Christ, His risen Son;

In favor thus, we stand in Him,

The Head and members one.

As Christ is, so are we,

Though this poor earth we tread;

In “righteousness transcendent” now,

We’re linked with Christ our Head.

And soon the world will know

The Father sent the Son,

And loved us e’en as He loved Christ,

The spotless Holy One.

Oh! day of wondrous bliss,

When faultless we’ll appear,

In bodies fashioned like His own,

And His blest image bear.

Oh! day of joy supreme,

When we His face shall see,

And know the depth of those sweet words,

“As he is, so are we.”

M. S. S.

"Once It Might Have Been."

WILL you try and say a few words to a new little patient of mine, before you leave the ward this afternoon?” It was the head nurse in one of the large wards of a city hospital who spoke, and her manner was peculiarly grave and thoughtful, so much so, that I asked at once, “Is there anything special in the case, nurse?”

“It is as sad a one as I have seen since I have been in this hospital, and that is many years now,” she said; and the tears stood in her eyes.

It was a rare thing to see Nurse K. so moved. She was a bright cheery woman, universally liked and respected by the patients, to whose wants and comforts she attended with unwearied patience. Every one of them seemed to cling to her as to a tower of strength. The ward was a different place if Nurse K. were out for a holiday. She knew me well, and often gave me hints as to the actual state of the sufferers, which helped me greatly in seeking to say a few words to them of Jesus the Saviour.

“What is wrong with your new patient, nurse?” I asked.

“Consumption, ma’am. She will not last more than forty-eight hours, if she does that; but poor child, what is so sad is she is only seventeen, and she is a wife, and has been a mother. She lost her little baby some months since, and from that; time has just pined away, so they tell me. Her husband brought her in last night. He would not part with her till now it is too late; the doctors can do nothing for her. If they had only brought her in sooner!” the kind woman added, “and she is such a pretty young thing to die, ―and the worst of it is, I am sure she is not prepared to die. Maybe she would listen to you if you would speak a few words, to her. She is in the bed at the right-hand corner, the other end of the ward.”

Nurse K.’s words thrilled me with deepest interest. I did not wonder that the tears stood in the kindly hearted woman’s eyes. Only seventeen, a wife, and a mother, beautiful, dying fast, and Christless, or “not prepared to die,” as she expressed it. My own heart was full, as I walked down the ward to the bed indicated.

When I reached it, my interest deepened in the young sufferer. She looked almost a child, and so lovely. Never had I seen so fair a face. She was propped up in bed, nearly in a sitting posture, and was gasping for breath. Large drops stood on her white brow, and trickled slowly down her face. A bright color was on her cheek, which looked almost transparent; a still brighter light in her eye; but it was very evident that grim monster, Death, had laid his cold, iron hand remorselessly on this young and beautiful and beloved one, and was hurrying away with his prey.

I have hardly ever felt as awe-stricken. It seemed as if no words, almost no prayer would come. She looked, as Nurse K. said, too fair to die; and yet we both knew surely she was dying fast, and dying without Christ. Eternity just a hand’s breadth in front of her, and she not ready to meet God!

She looked up as I came close to the bed, and smiled sadly. It was a bright day in early summer, and I had in my hand some lovely roses and ferns. She looked longingly at the flowers, and I said, “Would you like to have some of them?”

“Oh, so much,” she answered, “they are so beautiful.”

She spoke with difficulty, but showed great interest as I placed the flowers, on her bed, and began to arrange the finest of them in a little vase to stand by her side.

“It is so kind of you. I am so fond of flowers,” she said.

“So am I,” I answered, “they are some of God’s own handiwork; the God who seeks us to be His children, that He may show us a Father’s heart; the God who, gave His own Son Jesus our Lord to die for us, to save us. Do you know Jesus?” I whispered.

Never shall I forget: how that young face changed. Her brow darkened, and a look of thorough hatred gleamed from her eyes. Only once before in all my life had I ever seen a look like that, in a woman’s face. It was not weariness or indifference, it was hatred to the very name of Jesus.

In a moment I was silenced, the shock was so great of seeing a dying girl turn so decidedly from the fountain of life. Then, I thought―I hoped―perhaps it was only a look of pain, and stooping down, I repeated in a low voice, “‘God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ Would you not like to possess this everlasting life?” I asked her.

Again that terrible look of deliberate rejection. “I do not want to hear of these things,” she said;

“I am too weak.”

“I know you are very weak, too weak to talk,” I answered; “but you will let me read to you a verse or two of God’s own Word. I will not tire you.”

“I do not want to hear,” she said; “it is too late now. Once I might have listened, and believed. Now it is too late. I am dying, and I do not want to hear.” And she closed her eyes, as much as to Say, “You may as well leave me, my decision is final.”

Horror stricken, I stood as though rooted to the spot. She was so young, so interesting; it seemed too awful to think she was just about to lose this life and the next too. I could not leave her thus; and when I could speak, I said, “It is never too late to trust Jesus. He says, ‘Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.’ He would not cast you out; He would receive you, and take you to Himself. Come and try Him.”

Once more her brow darkened. “You are kind,” she said, “but I do not want to hear; it is too late. I know I am dying. Once it might have been. Not now.”

Nurse K., who had followed me down to the bed, and heard all that passed, looked greatly distressed, and said, “Listen to the words of Jesus, dear. You know you are very ill; turn your thoughts to God”

“I do not want to hear,” was the only answer, and she turned her head from us to the wall. The nurse and I looked sorrowfully at each other. I had no resource but to leave, but before I did, I repeated three verses of Scripture, in as clear a tone as I could command: ―

“The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.”

“He that believeth on the Son hath life; he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.”

“Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.”

There was no response, ―no movement even of a muscle of the face, and sadly I turned away. “She has been like that ever since she came in,” Nurse K. said. “I tried to read a hymn to her, but she would not listen. She said always, ‘Once it might have been, but now it is too late.”

Never did I leave an hospital ward so sick at heart. Never had I seen exemplified quite so plainly our enmity by nature to God. Here was one dying, and knowing it; with nothing left on―earth and yet unwilling to have Jesus and His glory.

That fair young face, with its expression of hatred to the Son of God, haunted me. I could not rest for it, and longed to see her again, hoping some ray of light might have entered her soul. But no; twenty-four hours after she had told me so decidedly she did not want to hear Jesus, she was in eternity.

“How did she die?” I asked Nurse K. “As you saw her,” she said; “she seemed to have no fear of death, but to the last she refused to listen to the Bible, or anything sacred. I never saw the like since I have been a nurse.”

“Once it might have been, once I might, have listened and believed. Now it is too late.” The words ring in my ears yet, though months have rolled by since they were uttered by those dying lips.

Once, before then, she had heard of Jesus; once she had been inclined to listen; once she had been near salvation, ―near it, but missed it, and missed it forever.

Has this been your case, my reader? Have you once listened, and almost believed! Have you once been near salvation, but missed it hitherto? If so, may the Lord make this poor girl’s case a warning, voice from the dead to, you, lest the devil tempt you to put off decision for Christ till another day, and lead, you, as he did, her, on and on towards eternity, blind-folded, and even on the very brink of that awful eternity lull you still, so that no warning cry of danger reach you or rouse you,―lest God leave you alone, and you wake up and find yourself shut out from Him forever and ever.

“My spirit shall not always strive.” X.

Callings from the Gospel of God.

“Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ: by whom also we have access by faith, into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.”―Romans 5:1, 2.

IN this lovely passage we have what we may well term three grand realities―three priceless privileges to be possessed and enjoyed by every true believer, every child of God, every member of the body of Christ. We have “peace,” to begin with; “grace,” to go on with; and “glory,” at the end. As to the past, all is divinely settled; as to the present, all is divinely provided for; and as to the future, it is an eternity of glory, in the presence of God. Eternal and universal homage to His Name!

But, it may be that, at the outset, the reader feels disposed to ask, For whom are these immense favors provided? On what are they based? And how are they to be had? These questions are, at once, interesting and important, in the very highest, degree; and the opening chapters of the epistle to the Romans furnish an answer to each, so full; clear, and distinct as not to leave a shadow of doubt on the mind of any one who is prepared to take God at His word—to believe what He says, because He says it.

And, first, as to the persons for whom these unspeakable blessings are provided, if the reader will just turn for a few moments to Romans 1:29-32; and chapters 3:10-18, he will find two divine photographs of man, the first, a Gentile; the second, a Jew; and, underneath the two, the solemn sentence of God the Holy Ghost, “There is no difference; for all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” The Gentile, having the light which creation afforded, gave up the, true God and worshipped reptiles; and, by his habits of life, proved himself more degraded than the beasts of the field.

Then, as to the Jew who thought himself so much better than the Gentile, and made his boast of having the law and the holy Scriptures, we have a full-length portrait of him taken from those very Scriptures in which he gloried. And oh! what a humbling picture it, is! We shall just quote the passage for the reader: ―

“What then? are we better? no, in no wise: for we have before proved both Jews and Gentiles, that they are all under sin; as it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one: there is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God. They are all gone out of the way, they are together become unprofitable; there is none that doeth good, no, not one. Their throat is an open sepulcher; with their tongues they have used deceit; the poison of asps is under their lips; whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness; their feet are swift to shed blood: destruction and misery are in their ways; and the way of peace have they, not known: there is no fear of God before their eyes.”

What a photograph! Here we have man to the life. We often hear it said that human photographs fail in giving the expression; but here we have a speaking likeness. It must be perfect, inasmuch as it is drawn by the Holy Ghost. “Now we know that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them that are under the law; that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God.”

Here we have a sweeping, comprehensive sentence. There is no escape. “All the world guilty.” “Every mouth stopped.” “There is no difference; for all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” A person may say, “I have never been guilty of anything which would place me below the level of a beast. I have lived a blameless, harmless life. I cannot discern my photograph, either in Romans 1 or 3. I know I am not what I ought to be; but I do not think these scriptures apply to me.”

To any one speaking or thinking thus, we reply, You are offering a flat contradiction to the solemn declaration of God the Spirit. He declares, “There is no difference.” You declare there is. His standard of measurement is perfect. Yours is not. He measures all by the glory of God. You measure yourself by other men, like the Pharisee in Luke 18. Hence, your conclusion is utterly false; and you will find this out sooner or later. God grant you may find it now, and own yourself a lost, ruined, guilty, hell-deserving sinner; for then you will find to your unspeakable joy, that it was just for such as you that the God of all grace has made such ample provision in His glorious gospel. He has provided life for the dead; salvation for the lost; righteousness for the guilty; deliverance for the slave; power for the helpless; wisdom for the fool; holiness for the vile―all that the very chief of sinners can need, for time and eternity, for earth and heaven; and not only all that the sinner needs, but all that the glory of God demands.

Thus much as to our first question, “For whom are these immense favors provided?” We shall now consider, for a moment, the second question, “On what are they based?” Thanks and praise to our God, they are not based on aught in us; on works of righteousness which we have to do; on works of law, in any shape-or form; on prayers, fastings, almsgiving, rites, ordinances, sacraments or ceremonial observances. Not any of these things, or all of them put together, could furnish a righteous ground for the salvation revealed in the blessed gospel of God. It is perfectly clear, that, if “every mouth is stopped,” and “all the world guilty before God” every possible ground of human merit is swept away. This is divinely clear and unanswerable.

The Lord be praised that it is so! When this is seen; when the sinner takes his true place, as guilty, not a word to say, not a plea to urge, not a hair’s-breadth of ground to stand upon, then verily he is in the true position to get a full, clear, soul-saving, emancipating view of God’s salvation. It is when all the rubbish of human righteousness is flung aside, that we are prepared to see and delight in the glorious foundation of the righteousness of God laid in the peerless sacrifice of His Son. “Wherefore also it is contained in the scripture, Behold, I lay in Sion a chief corner stone, elect, precious: and he that believeth on him shall not be confounded” (Isa. 28:16; 1 Peter 2:6). The weakest believer in Jesus shall never be confounded; but everlasting confusion shall be the certain portion of all who trust in any one or anything else. Assuredly, God’s foundation may well command the heart’s full confidence. God has found all he wants in Christ, found it for us; and tells us so, in His precious Word.

Here lies the divine and eternal basis of peace. Christ has made peace by the blood of His cross. “He was delivered for our offenses, and raised again for our justification.” Who delivered Him? “He was delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God.” “God spared not his own. Son, but delivered him up for us all.” He not only gave Him, but bruised Him on the cross, in order that He might have the joy of receiving to His bosom poor wretched prodigals, and making them eternally happy with Himself. His claims are satisfied, His name glorified, and His heart gratified in that precious work which secures the full salvation of the sinner. God’s glory and man’s salvation rest upon the same basis—the death and resurrection of our adorable Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

It is a grand and all-important point for the awakened soul to see clearly God’s place and part in the work of redemption. It is this which attracts the heart to Him. “God go loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son; that whosoever believeth in him might not perish but have everlasting life.” The heart of God is the blessed source from whence our eternal salvation flows; Christ’s work is the righteous channel through which it flows; and the testimony of the Holy Ghost is the stable authority on which I receive it. Thus it is all of God, from first to last. Every link in the golden chain is divine.

And, now, a word in reply to the third inquiry, “How are these blessings to be had?” To this question, so full of interest and importance to every earnest spirit, Scripture gives an answer clear, brief, and conclusive, namely, “By faith.” Precious answer, ―precious beyond all human thought or utterance, ―an answer which gives God and man their true place. “But now the righteousness of God, without law, is manifested, being witnessed by the law and the prophets; even the righteousness of God, by faith of Jesus Christ, unto all, and upon all them that believe; for there is no difference; for all have sinned and come short of the glory of God; being justified freely, by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus; whom God hath set forth a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past”―or the passing by the sins of bygone ages― “through the forbearance of God; to declare at this time his righteousness; that he might be just and”―what? the judge? Nay, but― “the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus” (Rom. 3:21-26).

Such is the unvarying testimony of Holy Scripture: The voice of prophets and apostles, inspired by the Holy Ghost, are in perfect harmony on this grand question. They all declare, with one voice, that, all the magnificent privileges of the gospel—eternal life, divine righteousness, perfect sanctification, perfect acceptance, eternal glory, are all bestowed as a free gift by God, all treasured up in Christ, all to be had by faith which itself is the gift of God.

We might fill pages with Scripture proofs on this momentous point, but there is no need. The volume of God from cover to cover literally teems with evidence to prove that the salvation of God―salvation for the very chief of sinners―is to be had by faith, and in no other way. “To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness.” Wondrous fact! Wondrous revelation! A holy, righteous God can take up a creature such as is described in Romans 1:29-32, and 3:10-18,―one whose heart is, by nature, a cesspool of iniquity and the seed-plot of every sin that ever was committed in this world,―He can take up such an one and, justify him freely from all things, and take him to His bosom, washed, sanctified, justified, and accepted, in the Son of His love. And all this in free sovereign grace, and all by faith.

And are we to do nothing? Hear the Divine response. “To him that worketh not.” Not by works of righteousness which we have done.” “Not of works, lest any man should boast.” This Divine “not” cuts up by the roots and flings to the winds every form of self-righteousness. It clears the scene completely of man and his doings, and opens the blessed door of faith into that scene where Christ is all and in all. It shuts out “dead works” as well as “wicked works,” and gives us instead those beauteous “life-works” which are only to be found in the new creation wherein all things are of God, all in Christ, all by faith.

But here it may be well to meet a difficulty which the enemy constantly uses to cast dust in the eyes of anxious inquirers. It is this, “How am I to know whether I have the right kind of faith?” This seems very plausible; and we have met numbers of souls who are stumbled by it. But it vanishes in a moment when the pure light of Scripture is brought to bear upon it. When Scripture speaks of faith, it means faith. It does not raise a question as to the kind of faith, for that would be to turn the heart from the Divine object of faith and occupy it with its faith. Now, it has been well remarked by another, “Faith is the soul’s outward, not its inward look.” The question is not, Have I the right kind of faith? but, Have I got the right object, the proper authority, the true testimony?

True, we read of “great faith” and “little faith”; and we read of “faith growing exceedingly.” But how does faith “grow”? How does “little faith” become “great”? Certainly not by being occupied with itself, but with its Divine object. Faith is believing what God says, because He says it; and the more we dwell upon God’s Word and feed upon it, the stronger our faith will grow; but if we look away from our Divine authority, away from the precious Word of God, away from Christ, and begin to analyze our faith, we shall become as miserable as if we were looking to our works, our feelings, our frames, our evidences, our experience, our anything. In short, self-occupation, in its every phase, turns the heart away from Christ, from the precious Word of God, and robs it of all peace and joy in believing. “He that believeth hatch set to his seal that God is true.”

Here lies the grand secret of the whole matter. It is not analyzing my faith, but resting like a little child on the Word of God, which is settled forever in heaven. This is the Divine basis of peace, and nothing can touch it. If the devil comes and asks me how do I know I have got the right kind of faith, I tell him that is not the question, but is God’s Word a proper authority. “If we receive the testimony of man, the testimony of God is greater.” How often have we received, without a question, the testimony of man. We do not look at our mode of believing, but at the authority on which we believe. “Abraham believed God.” This was the right kind of faith, and “he counted it to him for righteousness.”

Thus, blessed be God, it is in every case, as the apostle is careful to tell us, for our exceeding comfort. “It was not written for his sake alone, that it was imputed to him; but for us also, to whom it shall be imputed, if”―what? If we have the right kind of faith? Nay, but if we have the right object, the true authority― “if we believe on him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead; who was delivered for our offenses, and was raised again for our justification.”

How vast the difference in every way between being occupied with our faith and being occupied with God’s object, God’s Word, God’s Christ! No human language could give expression to it. The one is the fruitful source of uncertainty, gloom, and depression; the other the Divine source of “safety, certainty, and enjoyment.”

C. H. M.

"I Lost My Grip."

THERE was nothing attractive in the old woman’s face, but rather the opposite, till the name of the Lord Jesus was mentioned, and then the sudden lighting up of the countenance and earnest look told me that under that almost forbidding exterior there was an answer to that precious name. Further conversation proved that it was even so. Years before she had been visited by an earnest servant of the Lord, who had read to her from God’s Word, and spoken to her of her need of a Saviour, and of the Saviour whom God had provided. Light had entered her soul, but not in fullness. She could not read for herself, having never learned, and was unable mostly through bodily infirmity to go to hear the gospel preached, so she knew little―very little―of what a great salvation God’s salvation was.

This was the first of many talks which we had together. Her case interested me much. From early years she had been what is called cast upon the world. She was now nearly seventy, and the hardships she had met with had left deep hart’ lines upon her face. She lived alone, and had not now a single relative living. Her neighbors, too, spoke hardly of her, as being miserly and unsociable. But it refreshed my heart the eager, earnest attention with which she listened to the Word of God, ―a contrast, indeed, to the listless carelessness that one so often met with. I could not but see in her a quickened, though not delivered, soul. But deliverance came.

It was some time after this that Mr. M―, a servant of the Lord, came to labor for a short time in the place, and, hearing of her case, went to see her.

“Well, Mrs. S―,” he asked, as he shook hands, “are you the Lord’s?”

“Ah, sir,” she answered, “I ance was, but I lost my grip.”

“But did He lose His grip of you?”

“Oh, I wadna like to say that of Him, but I’m thinkin’ He hams got a richt hold, for I’m no His the noo.”

“He always takes right hold, and never lets go; He says, ‘None shall pluck them out of my hand;’” replied Mr. M―; and then sitting down beside her, he simply and clearly put before her how fully the Lord Jesus Christ had met every claim which God’s holiness and justice required, how He had entered into the question of sin and settled it forever, how He had borne our sins in His own body on the tree, how He had gone down into death, and the proof that God was satisfied was, that He had raised Him from the dead, and set Him at His own right hand in the glory. Old Mrs. S― listened attentively, and occasionally wiped her eyes with a large handkerchief which lay upon her lap, but still the dark doubtful look rested upon her face. Suddenly Mr. M―lifted the handkerchief and laid it upon his own knee, and asked, “Where is your handkerchief?”

“Upon your knee, sir,” she replied, evidently greatly surprised both by the action and the question.

Mr. M―took the handkerchief and threw it under the chair out of sight, and asked, “Where is it now?”

“It is gone.”

“Well, that is what happened with your sins; the Lord Jesus Christ took all of them upon Him when on the cross, but He is not there now, He is in the glory, and your sins are not there in the glory: where are they?”

The dear old woman clasped her hands and exclaimed, “Oh, they are gone―forever gone; they, were my sins, but He took them―took them all, but He hasna them now, and He’ll no give me them back again. Oh, I never saw this before,” and the haggard-looking face looked quite beautiful, lighted up with the new joy that shone upon it. All was now changed for this aged one. The dreary, dark time of doubt and uncertainty was over, exchanged for the blessed certainty of knowing whom she had believed, and what He had done for her.

The following day the workers in the workshop over which her little room was situated paused in their work as they heard her speaking, and knowing that no one was with her at the time, they laughed and concluded that she was becoming doted and stupid. Ah! they little knew in whose company she was, and into whose ear she had been pouring out of the fullness which He Himself had given, and that instead of becoming stupid, she had now become wise unto salvation.

If she had loved to hear the Word of God before, how much more was this intensified now? As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so were those living waters to her.

“Don’t read me a big bit,” she would say, “just a wee bit, over and over, that it may bide wi’ me when you have to go.”

One day it was that scripture in Romans 8:30, “Moreover, whom he did predestinate―” when, glancing up to her, and noticing the puzzled expression on her face, I said, “Would you like a simpler word than that big one?” She nodded eagerly, and I began again. “‘Moreover, whom he did mark out, them he also called―’”

“Yes, yes,” she ejaculated, “and I was one.”

“ ‘And whom he called, them he also justified.’”

“So He did; it was wonderfu’.”

“ ‘And whom he justified, them he also―’ Do you know what word comes next?” I asked.

“No, for He could do nae mair than justify us.” “Yes, He did far, far more―listen.” I began again, and oh, with what freshness and power those words fell upon both of our ears. “‘Moreover, whom’ he did mark out, them he also called; and whom he called, them he also justified; and whom he justified, them he also glorified.’”

She clasped her hands and exclaimed, “Is that a’ I wait for, just for the glory?”

“Yes, dear friend, and already in God’s sight it is an accomplished thing; it is only we who have to wait for it.”

But her waiting time was soon to be over, for in a few months the Lord took her home to be with Himself. Just before she was taken; I asked her, “How is it with you now?”

She answered, speaking with great difficulty, “I’m going―going―now―to—be―with―Christ.”

Reader, how is it with you? You doubtless know much more of the Word of God than this one of whom you have just been reading, but have you received, and believed, and rested upon it as she did? and is it unto you the joy and rejoicing of your heart?

These are solemn words, as spoken by the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, “He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words, hath one that judgeth him: the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day” (John 12:48). God grant that it may not be the savor of death unto death, but of life unto life for YOU.

Y. Z.

"What Shall I Do?"

No. 2.

“There was, a certain rich man which had a steward; and the same was accused unto him that he had wasted his goods. And he called him, and said unto him, How is it that I hear this of thee? give an account of thy stewardship; for thou mayest be no longer steward. Then the steward said within himself, What shall I do? for my lord taketh away from me the stewardship: I cannot dig; to beg I am ashamed. I am resolved what to do, that, when I am put out of the stewardship, they may receive me into their houses. So he called every one of his lord’s debtors unto him, and said unto the first, How much owest thou unto my lord? And he said, An hundred measures of oil. And he said into him, Take thy bill, and sit down quickly, and write fifty. Then said he to another, And how much owest thou? And he said, An hundred measures of wheat. And he said unto him, Take thy bill, and write fourscore. And the lord commended the unjust steward, because he had done wisely: for the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light. And I say unto you, Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of up righteousness; that, when ye fail, they may receive you into everlasting habitations.”―Luke 16:1-9.

INJUSTICE and gross dishonesty mark this steward, but so also do wisdom and prudence. He was profoundly selfish, but his selfishness did not prevent him from arranging for his future. Being expelled from his honorable position, and both unable to dig, and ashamed to beg, he provided, with rare cunning, for straits and difficulties which must inevitably supervene.

“What shall I do?” said he to himself, on finding that his discharge was imminent.

The loss of his stewardship entailed disgrace, for he was dismissed on the charge of dishonesty. He must go without a character. He had forfeited all claim to respect. He must retire a discredited man; and, how to survive such degradation demanded no little skill. He was equal, however, to the occasion; and, being a true child of this world, he rose to a high reputation for such wisdom, in his generation, as could not be found amongst the children of light, ―a wisdom for which his lord could praise him. He performed a stroke of business on his own behalf which better than he might well imitate. He provided for the future!

“I am resolved what to do.” It was a remarkable resolution, utterly devoid of conscience or uprightness, yet it was a wise one, ―wise, that is, according to the wisdom of self-interest.

To raise oneself on the shoulders of others is fair, and to hustle them out of the race is meritorious, where self is lord paramount; and so at all cost to his master, the steward resolved to make those who were in debt to his lord for money in his own debt for gratitude. He resolved to do them a good turn at his lord’s expense. He made friends of such. He curtailed the amount of their indebtedness to his lord, and so won their favor. Thus, his lord’s money was used and turned into a friend by him in view of future demands.

He was not like the rich man of Luke 12, whose one idea was present enjoyment, using his means for the purpose of eating, drinking, and making merry. This man had no means of his own, or, whatever he had, belonged to his lord, so that, whilst he used this money, he had the conviction that it was another’s; and that he employed in an unrighteous way, but for his own advantage, that which belonged to his lord. What he did was thoroughly dishonest; yet, in the way he did it, he displayed profound foresight. The whole principle of his conduct was that he was governed by the future, ―his immediate future, not the by-and-by of God’s reckoning, but that which lay beyond the present crisis of his history.

His wisdom lay in the fact that he made a provident use of the money which, in point of fact, though at his disposal, really belonged to his lord.

And, therefore, he received his master’s commendation because he had done wisely. He was praised for his acuteness in making so clever an arrangement for his future.

Now, man is that steward. Adam was turned out of his place after he had sinned. He was no longer fit for such a stewardship; and whatever we, his children, may have, belongs not to us but to God. We have no moral claim to a single penny, but are dependent on and responsible to God for all.

This is solemn and searching! What are you doing, dear reader, with, your Lord’s money?

And therefore the Lord said to His disciples, “Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness (or riches that perish); that, when ye fail (or die), they may receive you (or, ye may be received) into everlasting habitations.”

That is, our wisdom lies in making use of God’s money now, in view of our eternal future.

What a difference there is between thinking that my money is my own, spending it on my personal gratification, and realizing that it is God’s to be used by me for the furtherance of His interests; between having “the love of money, which is the root of all evil,” and “doing good, being rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing, to communicate; laying up in store a good foundation against the time to come” (1 Tim. 6:10-19).

Bear in mind, however, that the bestowal of “charities,” though most commendable, cannot save.’ You may give all your goods to feed the poor, and yet be nothing!

It is necessary that you should be a disciple―a true believer in the Lord Jesus first―for that alone can make you right with God; and then endeavor by His grace to utilize the money God may lend you for your own future, and for His glory. Let the example of an unjust steward, in providing for his future, urge you, dear reader, to do the same for yours. J. W. S.

IT has been said, “For every look you give to self, give ten looks to Christ.” I would say, Give Christ the eleventh. One look of faith at Him saves the soul at the outset, and nothing but looking at Him keeps the soul afterward. Look, then, at Him, at Him only, at Him always, and ever, and peace and power will be the result. W. T. P. W.

"The Sin of Unbelief."

SOME little gospel books had been, a few minutes before, handed round to the strangers in the compartment in which I was traveling, when a man on my left raised his head from perusing his little book and said, I don’t think the sin, of unbelief is so bad as you people make out. If I live as best I can, I expect it will be all right with me when I die.” I made answer― “It does not matter what you think or what, I think, but what GOD says. You will find in Revelation 21:8 list of the sinners cast into the lake of ere. There are eight classes enumerated, and amongst them are murderers, sorcerers, whoremongers, idolaters, and liars. You would shrink from making friends of such as these; yet in front of these classes, as if to point out and give prominent to the worst classes, are the fearful and unbelieving.”

Here the train stopped, and our conversation came to an abrupt end.

If any of my readers think with this traveler that the sin of unbelief is of small account, beware!

If there will be one sin in the dread, judgment-day that will dwarf other sins, however hideous they may be, it will be the sin of unbelief. One sin shut man out of an earthly paradise, and so one sin will shut you out of a, heavenly paradise, If you lived nine hundred and sixty nine years like Methuselah, and spent it highly religious life, praying, and reading your Bible, going to places of worship regularly, giving alms in a munificent manner, and doing all you could to earn the favor of, God in your own strength, and passed an unbeliever into eternity, with only a record of one sin against you, you would be forever found in the lake of fire. Awful judgment! “He that believeth not is condemned already” (John 3:18).

If you believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, salvation is yours on the authority of God’s written word (Acts 16:31; John 5:24).

It is an awfully solemn thought that there will not be one unbeliever in hell. Men scout now the idea of everlasting torment and the idea of a hell, but when they pass out of time into eternity―Christless souls―they will find all the unbelief of infidelity withered up. “The devils... believe and tremble” (James 2:19).

If you believe now, salvation, with all its present blessings and future joys, will be yours. But if you refuse to believe on earth, you will be forced to acknowledge the truth of these things in eternity, for it is written, “As I live, saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God” (Rom. 14:11).

Be wise then, dear reader, and close in with God’s most wondrous offers of mercy and grace, for “it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” But, “the long-suffering of our Lord is salvation” (2 Peter 3:15). A. J. P.

There's a Saviour for You.

Tune― “Press Forward.”

AFAR off from God in the broad downward road,

The soul may have wandered, ‘neath sin’s heavy

load;

Yet still there’s a message for Gentile and Jew,

And this is its purport―There’s a Saviour for you.

Though burdened with sin, and though laden with

care,

E’en now there is hope, so you need not despair;

For JESUS has met all the penalty due

To sin, and, in glory, ―HE’s the Saviour for you.

Oh! why quench your thirst at the rivers of earth

By drinking from streams of unsanctified mirth?

Oh! why not the world and its pleasures eschew,

And heed the glad tidings—There’s a Saviour for

you?

A Saviour for you! ― Oh! how precious the word

That God hath declared Him both Saviour and

Lord!

He’s done all the work God assigned Him to do,

And now rest assured―There’s a Saviour for you.

Ah! soon will this day of God’s favor be o’er,

When He will forever have shut to the door,

How bitterly, then, all the past you’ll review,

In hearing NO LONGER―There’s a Saviour for you.

N. L. N.

"What Shall I Do?"

No. 3.

“A certain man planted a vineyard, and let it forth to husband-men, and went into a far country for a long time. And at the season he sent a servant to the husbandmen, that they should give him of the fruit of the vineyard: but the, husbandmen beat him, and sent him away empty. And again he sent another servant: and they heat him also, and entreated him shamefully, and sent him away empty. And again he sent a third: and they wounded him also, and cast him out. Then said the lord of the vineyard, What shall I do? I will send my beloved son: it may be they will reverence him when they, see him. But when the husbandmen saw him, they reasoned among themselves, saying, This is the heir: come, let us kill him, that the inheritance may be ours. So they cast him out of the vineyard, and killed him. What therefore shall the lord of the vineyard do unto them? He shall come and destroy these husbandmen, and shall give the vineyard to others.”―Luke 20:9-16.

THAT you or I, that man, should say, “What shall I do?” is easily understood, for we soon reach the end of our resources, but that God should make use of that expression―for in our parable it is thus viewed―is indeed wonderful.

But let us find out the meaning of the parable, and then we shall appreciate the nature of the question.

The vineyard is clearly the land of Israel, and the husbandmen its favored people. That people, taken out from amongst other nations, were brought nigh to the Lord in various ways, received His oracles, were honored by the Temple, as His dwelling-place, being in their midst, and were made the recipients of His Word.

That Word came to them by the prophets, who Its the “servants” in our parable, were sent at the season to receive from the husbandmen the fruits of the vineyard, the worship, the service, the obedience due by them to God.

Servant after servant came for this purpose, but instead of receiving fruit they were maltreated, wounded, killed, and rejected, and the claims of the lord of the vineyard were, in this manner, refused and perversely disregarded.

Such was the treatment the prophets received. What a fearful insult to God thus to abuse His faithful servants! But it only proved the condition of the men to whom the vineyard had been “let out.” That condition was one of rank and daring rebellion! At this point, when the full complement of prophets had been sent, we find the question raised by the lord of the vineyard, “What shall I do?” says he. Well, what? He might most justly have had recourse to retributive measures, and dealt out to the husbandmen the punishment they deserved.

But, being slow to anger, and patient under provocation, he adopted a plan of the most wonderful grace!

Yes, before allowing the ax to fall on these wicked men, he takes one more step in the path of mercy; he says, “I will send my beloved son; it maybe they will reverence him when they see him.”

“I will send”―I will demonstrate the earnestness of My heart by this act of mission― “my beloved Son.” than whose authority none could be greater, who shall go to them, invested in the dignity of His relation to Me, and His dominion over them; supported, too, as My ambassador, with the moral glory of My name-”it may be they will reverence him when they see him.” “It may be,” for His coming will be a test—the final test—of their responsibility. It may be that what they refused to render to prophets they will yield to the Son when they see Him! Alas, the higher the Messenger the greater the obstinacy; and the severer the test the more faulty the material. What could have exceeded the grace that sent the beloved Son―that Son who knew the Father’s heart―that “only begotten” who dwelt in His bosom―to receive in person what was due to the lord of the vineyard from people who had already offended beyond degree, by the open rejection and slaughter of the prophets?

But, alas! as with them, so with Him! “When the husbandmen saw him, they reasoned among themselves, saying, This is the heir: come, let us kill him, that the inheritance may be ours. So they cast him out of the vineyard, and killed him.”

Awful reply, indeed, to the grace of the Lord! “This is the heir,” said they. His high position, instead of being a deterrent on their rebellion, or an incentive for their obedience, was but an additional stimulus to their malice; and so, in a crowning act of violence, compared with which all the others were small, they cast him out of the vineyard and killed him.

This was the climax of their sin. Probation ended there. An act had now been committed that demanded a fearful requital. “What therefore shall the lord of the vineyard do unto them? He shall come and destroy these husbandmen.” That was the only alternative. It actually happened.

The mission of God’s beloved Son, to receive from man, was answered by His death. They took Him, and by wicked hands crucified and slew Him (Acts 2:23); and in His crucifixion human iniquity reached its highest point, because the Son of God was, in our midst, in the display of love and grace, even as He had come not to judge but to save; and yet this very grace stirred the hatred of man against God, until they cried, “Away with him! crucify him!”

But this shows what man is, ―shows that “the carnal mind is enmity against God,” and that “in the flesh dwells no good thing.” His death ended our probation as sinners. It ended the world in God’s sight. As we read, “Once in the end of the world” (once in the consummation of the ages, ―the winding up, that is, of those ages of probation that had gone before), ― “once in the end of the world he appeared.” What to do? To receive fruit from man? Ah, we have seen what He received. Then, what to do? To destroy? Well, without doubt, judgment fell on those who, moss directly, compassed His death, for the vineyard was taken from them, the temple raised to the ground, and the nation scattered. But yet He appeared for something more―and what was it? “He appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself” (Heb. 9:26).

“The very spear that pierced His side

Drew forth the, blood to save.”

Oh, the eternal triumph of grace! Where our sin rose to its most appalling height, there the love of God won its brightest victory. At the cross the two forces came in contact. It was the meeting-place of guilt and grace.

If the lord of the vineyard sent his beloved son to receive fruit, so do we also find that “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son” (where there is no question of receiving fruits, but of giving blessing), “that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).

What a wide, wide difference! Neither you nor I, dear reader, could give aught to God that He could call fruit, for “there is none that doeth good, no, not one;” but He has given His Son for us, telling us of His death, resurrection, ascension, and glory, that if we―poor, worthless, guilty we―believe in Him we shall not perish under the eternal judgment our many sins deserve, but have everlasting life. It is this God has done. His acts spring from His heart. His love is the cause of all His mercy toward us.

Is your question, “What shall I do?” “This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent” (John 6:29). J. W. S.

Milk Without Money; or, a Lesson We Must All Learn.

“Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money: come ye, buy and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money, and without price.”―Isa. 54:1.

I WAS on an evangelistic tour through the north of Ireland, accompanied by a beloved fellow-laborer in the gospel. Being announced to preach at the town of L―, on the 14th September, two routes to our destination lay open to us, ―a long detour by rail, or a direct drive of about twenty miles on an outside jaunting-car over some verdant mountains. Taking the wise advice of our host of the previous night―a beloved brother in the Lord―we chose the latter, and being well furnished with little gospel books for the journey, we started. My friend sat one side of the car and I the other, and all along our journey we scattered our precious gospel seeds, giving them to walkers, jerking them to riders in vehicles, and now and then jumping off, as our stout nag toiled up the hills, and handing them to rustic cottagers, and sun-burned reapers in the fields of golden grain which on all hands, waved under the balmy zephyr breezes of the loveliest day I ever saw in Erin’s isle. I am thankful to say our tracts were welcomed on all hands; and one feels sure the fruit of this happy service will show up, in the day of the Lord, in the persons of some precious souls blessed through these little silent messengers.

The sun began to get very hot, and quite naturally, after two or three hours of this sort of work we became rather thirsty. We had come on no very drinkable water, so, spying a little house where I knew there would be a cow or two, I asked our driver if he thought I could get some milk there. Receiving an affirmative answer, I ran to the door, which was open, and knocked. This brought out from the innermost apartment a sedate but pleasant-looking female, evidently, I should judge, the mistress of the primitive establishment. Looking at me, as much as to say, What do you want? but not speaking, I courteously said, “Will you be good enough to sell me some milk?”

She paused a moment, and then very firmly replied, “No!” following up this decided negative with a pleasant smile, and “but I will give you some,” putting as strong an emphasis on the “give” as she had placed on the “no.”

So saying, she turned back to her little dairy, while I turned to my friend, who had come to my side, saying, “Now, that’s the gospel, is it not? God gives, but He will not sell, salvation.” We had a most delicious draft of cold sweet milk, for which we most truly gave her thanks, accompanied by some little gospel books, and a few words about God’s blessed Son and His great salvation, which was as free to her, by faith, as she had made her milk to us, and then resumed our journey.

Then, and many a time since, I have pondered over this scene as a lovely illustration of God’s way of dealing with souls who really want salvation. We did not know, and therefore did not count, on the bounty of the one we appealed to. And so it is with man. Not knowing God, he knows not the grace and love of His heart; and, though needy, and owning it too, fancies he must bring an equivalent to God ere he can get from Him that which he needs. If you, my reader, are of this mistaken class, may God open your eyes to see His way of salvation. His grace provides it, and not your works of any kind. There are two good reasons for this. First, God is too rich to sell salvation; and second, man is too poor to buy it. Hence you must get it as a gift, if you are to get it at all.

The quotation I have made at the head of this paper shows this truth very simply. The “thirsty” are invited. And are not you among this number? You certainly are, if you have not yet found Jesus, for “your labor,” whatever its nature, “satisfieth not,” our verses say. Thirst is a craving which the suited fluid alone can satisfy. Now the thirst of an anxious soul is really for God and His Christ, though very likely it could not put it in so many words; but the Lord Jesus, who knows the heart well, says, “Whosoever drinketh of this water [the well of this world] shall thirst again: but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst” (John 4:13, 14). Precious words! But not more precious than true. Again, He says, “If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink” (John 7:37); giving also this sweet assurance, “He that cometh to me shall never, hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst; ... and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:35, 37).

Now, dear anxious reader, are not you invited? Do not these glorious words of the Saviour encourage you to come to Him? They ought to, if they do not, Listen again, “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters.” “But,” you say, “how can I be sure it means me? Perhaps I am not thirsty enough, not anxious enough, for salvation.” Very likely; no one ever was as anxious as he should have been, considering God’s view of sin, and the awful danger of the unsaved sinner. But the point is not the measure of your anxiety, but the fact of your being “thirsty” or willing at all. If so, hear the word of the Lord: “I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.... Let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely” (Rev. 21:6, 22:17). What charming words! “I will give... freely.” That is God’s side. “Let him take... freely.” That is your side. God gives; all you have to do is to take what He gives.

“What must I bring?” say you. Nothing! Come to Jesus as you are. “He that hath no money” is the invited one. You have no equivalent for that which God dispenses so you are bid to come and buy “without money and without price.” Why “buy”? Because it supposes a person in earnest. When a person goes into a shop to “buy” an article, his very presence there shows he really wanted it, or he would not have gone to the trouble of entering the mart. Buying implies direct dealing between two parties. This is the very thing God wants. He wishes you brought into His own presence in real desire to have salvation, the water of life, Christ. You come. What then? You find all is a gift. How simple!

What earnestness is with God, when thrice in this one verse He says “Come!” I cannot refrain from quoting it again, “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money COME ye, buy and eat; yea, COME, buy wine and milk without money, and without price.” How blessedly falls that heaven-barn ward on the ear―come! come! COME! Who could refuse such grace? Come as you are; come in your sins; court in your guilt. Come in your distress; come in your sorrow, your want, your woe, your misery, your helplessness, your nothingness, your poverty, your hardness of heart, ―yea, exactly as you are, as you read these lines. Only come, come to Jesus, and you will be received, blessed, forgiven, cleansed, and saved on the very spot.

More, you will be made the possessor of a new life, for, He adds here, “Incline your ear, and come unto me; hear, and your soul shall live.” This, too, is a gift, as is all else that the soul receives from God; for it is written, “The gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom. 6:23).

Rest assured, if you come in any way but as a simple receiver, you must be rejected, as was Cain. Did you never notice that the Lord Jesus said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35)? This being so, who is to have the more blessed place, you or God? Let one speak who knew well this truth, “Without all contradiction, the less is blessed of the better” (Heb. 7:7). Now, then, what do you say? I will tell you what I say: “Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift” (2 Cor. 9:15). W. T. P. W.

"It Is All Clear Now."

SUCH were the words of one into whose soul the light of God’s saving grace had shone.

She was on a sick bed, and I had been asked to go and see her, and speak with her about her soul. After I had asked her some questions about her health, and bodily condition, which, through mercy, was better than it had been, I said to her―

“And how is it as to your soul?”

“I don’t know,” was the reply; “I am all mixed up. They tell me I must just believe in Christ; but I can’t see through it; I don’t understand it. I do believe in Christ, but still they tell me I am net saved.” “Why do they tell you, you are not saved?”

“Because I don’t believe right. I don’t understand it; I am all mixed up,” she repeated.

“Do you understand what it is to be lost?” I said to her, thinking, perhaps, the work of conviction needed to be deepened in her soul, and that she needed to learn more fully the utter hopelessness of her condition as a sinner in God’s sight.

“I am a sinner,” she replied, looking at me questioningly.

“A lost sinner? or only half-lost?”

“I did not know there was any half-way about it. I thought it was either lost or saved.”

“So it is,” I said; “but I wanted to see whether you realized that you were really lost. You know how God’s Word speaks of the condition of the sinner. It speaks of him as utterly ruined and undone.”

“Hand me a Bible,” she said to a sister-in-law who was present; “I want to know what the Bible says about it.”

I said to her, “An aged Christian was once asked for his photograph. He replied, ‘You will find my photograph in the third chapter of Romans.’ Now I want you to look into that chapter, and see the photograph that is there given of the sinner by the Spirit of God.”

I then turned to the chapter, and read verses 9-19, seeking to show her that the evil in her heart, as well as in the heart of every one, was capable of being developed until it exhibited all the horrid features of this dark and humbling picture. “And now,” I said, “do you see your photograph here?”

“It’s pretty bad,” she said.

“Yes,” I replied, “it is bad, but it is a picture, true to life, of the heart of every unsaved sinner.”

She owned that this was true, and that she was lost, and utterly undone.

I then endeavored to set before her the provision that God had made for those that are lost. How that God had given His only begotten Son, in His infinite love, to a lost world; that He made propitiation for our sins; that through faith in Him we receive the pardon of our sins; that receiving Him we receive eternal life, as it is written, “He that hath the Son hath life; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life” (1 John 5:12). I also sought to show her that genuine faith in the Lord Jesus involved submission of heart to Him as Lord, quoting Romans 10:9, 10, ― “If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.” It is not merely assenting to the fact that there was such a person as Jesus; but as a lost sinner, believing the truth that God gave His Son to be the Saviour of such, and yielding the consent of the heart to have Jesus as Lord and Saviour, and submitting to Him as such.

“Now,” I said, “do you consent in your heart to have Jesus, ―to receive Him as God’s gift,―to receive Him as a Saviour, and submit to Him as your Lord and Master? If you do, you are saved.”

“But how am I to know?”

“By the Word of God. God’s Word says that such are saved. ‘He was delivered for our offenses, and was raised again for our justification. Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ.’ ‘He bare our sins in his own body on the tree.’ God’s Word is plain, that if we are believers on the Lord Jesus Christ, all the value of His sacrifice is applied to our sins, and we are pardoned and justified before God. Look also at 1 John 5:13, ― ‘These things have I written unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God, that ye may know that ye have eternal life.’ These scriptures show that if you believe in Jesus, ―if you believe on the name of the Son of God, ―you are forgiven, justified, saved, and have eternal life; and you know simply by believing God’s testimony. You have no work of your own to do; you have but to believe, yielding the consent of your heart to have Christ as your Saviour and Lord.”

“Is that all I have to do?”

“Yes, that is all!”

“But I am so wicked,” she said, as the tears filled her eyes.

“This is your very title to claim Jesus as your Saviour, for He came not to call the righteous, but sinners. He came to seek and to save that which was lost. If you could say you were good, or righteous, in any measure; you could not claim Him. If you realize that you are wicked, it is your title to the sinner’s Saviour; and the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth from all sin. It is perfectly clear that if you own by simple faith Jesus as Saviour, and confess Him as your Lord, all the value of His sacrifice stands to your account; and it clears all the past, and covers all the future. On the ground of the infinitely precious blood of Jesus, God blots out all the guilty past, and will never impute sins to you in the future. As a Father He may have to use the rod, but you will never again, as a guilty sinner, have to meet Him in the character of a Judge. As a righteous God He has justified you, once and forever, on the ground of the blood of Christ, who bore all your sins in His own body on the tree; and the blessedness of Romans 4:7, 8, is yours― ‘Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man to whom the Lord will not impute sin.’”

The tears ran down her cheeks, as the light broke in upon her soul, and she said― “I SEE IT; IT IS ALL CLEAR NOW.”

The truth had done its own work in her soul, purging her conscience, and setting her in peace in the presence of God. The sense of God’s love and grace took possession of her soul, and filled her with joy.

Giving thanks to God for His grace, and commending her to Him, I left her with her newfound joy in the company of the Saviour who had revealed Himself to her soul.

And now, unsaved reader, let me ask you to take your Bible, and read Romans 3:9-19, and see there the photograph which the Spirit of Truth has made of your unrenewed heart; so that, your mouth being stopped, you may take your place before God as a guilty and undone sinner. And when the truth has closed your mouth, you will find that grace has opened God’s mouth to proclaim unconditional and eternal pardon through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, whose precious blood cleanseth from all sin.

A. H. R.

"Death, and Afterward."

DEATH IS HERE. There is no disguising the unmistakable fact. All would like to get rid of it, if they could, but that is impossible. Death is here, and makes no distinctions. Peasants, farmers, mechanics, townspeople, commercial men, professionals, nobles, kings, emperors, all classes in short, die. Face the truth of it you must, whoever you are.

Moreover, you may have to die today; you might die as you read these lines. There is nothing more uncertain than this life. You may make a fortune as large as Rothschild’s; you may climb to the top of the tree of literary renown; you may be a world-wide celebrity for scientific research; you may gain the highest military distinction; you may be the envy of the mass as to parliamentary honors, but you cannot get rid of death. And although the world might ring with your name and fame for centuries to come, you yourself will leave all behind when you die. Once you are born into this world, whoever you may be, whatever you may do, death is before you. You may escape it in childhood; you may escape it at manhood; you may escape it in middle age; but old age will come, and the end of man here is death. You may live fifty years after reading this, or you may only live fifty seconds, nothing is more uncertain. Death is before you, right before you, every moment brings it nearer to you, and you to it. You may close your eyes, distract your thoughts, salve or sear your conscience, but it does not alter it. Death is right before you, the dire foe you cannot escape.

Infidels deny truth on all hands, but one thing that they never attempt to deny is death. Go where you will, cities, towns, villages witness to the fact; for cemeteries, churchyards, graveyards, tombs abound almost everywhere. Every family has experienced the truth of it. Yes, death is here.

We recently came across a book with the title at the head of this paper, “Death―and afterward,” the production of a man of known brilliant parts in the literary world. Alive to the above fact, the writer appears to have looked it in the face, and to have brought all his great powers of mind to bear upon it. Evidently it is a very unpleasant one. What is to be done in view of it? The heart suggests, get rid of it. But this being impossible, the next best thing is, take away its ugly appearance to the very best of man’s ability, and clothe it with a halo of sweetness and glory. Convinced by creation of another fact, that death has an afterwards, and surprised at the incredulity of many as to this, some awkward text such as, “It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment” (Heb. 9:27), floating perhaps in the mind, since it was first imbibed at a mother’s knee, something must be done.

To go through life, with death and judgment ahead accepted as facts, with their generally received meaning, would be misery. The remedy is simple; throw judgment overboard altogether, and as to death, which is a thing visible, and cannot be shelved quite so easily, gild it with light, and turn it into a lovely dream.

But still the fact remains, death is here. You may put a halo of glory about it, and surround it with poetical phrases, but still death is death. The spirit leaves the tenement, and the end of the poor body here, whether beautiful or ugly, graceful or hideous, is a coffin, corruption, dust, and worms; or cremation, and an urnful of ashes, ―a custom which Christendom has borrowed from heathendom.

And afterward, what then? Here man with highest natural powers is utterly at fault. A thoughtful and poetical mind, with borrowed Buddhism, and sundry suggestive Scripture thoughts (even though Scripture is treated as a mere human composition like any other book, and much of its contents entirely ignored), can imagine anything. It is easy for such a one to picture ages of bliss and joy beyond. And with judgment as a fable, invented to frighten naughty children, or as a weapon for covetous religionists to extort gold from frightened fools, it is almost charming to look at this world as the ante-room, and death as the glorious door to Elysian fields of transcendent and unimagined delights.

Lovely dream, charming fantasy, glorious ideal! But alas, alas! this cup of nectar contains one bitter drop. That is, Is it true? One great authority will tell you so. Believe him, and all will be well. You may lie on your bed of down, and sleep life’s weary years away dreaming of your glorious future. You have solved life’s mystery. Things are not as they appear. The old-fashioned notions are quite obsolete. The world is all beauty; man, the model of perfection and purity; sin, a chimera, or natural infirmity, or slight frailty at most, and most excusable; death, the door to eternal bliss. Yes, with all the qualms of conscience notwithstanding, there is nothing the matter after all. Life’s mystery is most happily solved and... But, one moment, this is delightful, but... Well, but what?... the great authority you speak about, who is he? Oh! he’s the father of lies. But you need not trouble believe him; take unquestioning all he says, and you have found the end of the tangled skein, and all is well. The cup of nectar is at your lips; drink it, and be happy now and evermore. Take no notice of the drop of bitter; drink it down; sleep comfortably, dream on; you will soon pass the glorious portal; and then unspeakable joy.

Yet still the fact remains, death is here; and as the highly cultured poet says, there is death—and afterwards; and some foolish people are not yet quite convinced that the above is wisdom’s solution of it all. They are not poetical, it is true. But some have common (if not uncommon) sense. (‘Tis thought that of the former some poets have a lack.) Can the renowned discoverer of this right royal road to happiness furnish unimpeachable authority that it leads to the desired goal? Some have read in an old book, which has no pretension to modern authority, having been written several centuries before the advanced minds of the nineteenth introduced their novel creed, that a certain rich man, clad in purple and fine linen, who fared sumptuously every day, who appears to have trusted the great authority above mentioned, passed out of the ante-room by the well-known door, and was buried, and “in hell he lift up his eyes, being in...” (Luke 16:23). What nonsense, why, it lacks all poetical sentiment! Excuse, friend but do not interrupt; let us read the following verse, “And he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue, for I am tormented in this flame.” You may exclaim―The idea of believing that, why, it is in the Bible!

Yes, reader, that’s in the Bible, ―THE WORD OF GOD. The Word of God indeed! says the father of lies. The Word of God! echoes modern poetry and sentiment. The Word of God! re-echoes modern infidelity all around. Yes, the Word of God, the Word of Him who cannot lie (Titus 1:2) the Word that shall never pass away (Matt. 24:35); the Word that endureth forever (1 Peter 1:25); the Word that is forever settled in heaven (Psa. 119:89); the Scripture which cannot be broken, (John 10:35)

“I do not believe it is the Word of God,” says barefaced unbelief.

“He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words, hath one that judgeth him; the word that; I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last; day,” says the Son of God in that Word (John 12:48).

“I do not believe that He is the Son of God.”

“If ye believe not that I am he, ye shall die in, your sins” (John 8:24). “He that believeth not shall be damned” (Mark 16:16).

“And I do not believe in God.”

“The fool hath said in his heart, There is no, God” (Psa. 14:1, 53:1). And “the Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with his mighty angels, in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Thess. 1:7, 8).

Read 2 Peter 2:1, 2, ye infidel reasoners without God, “But there were false prophets also among the people, even as there shall be false teachers among you, who privily shall bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them, and bring upon themselves swift destruction. And many shall follow their pernicious ways, by reason of whom the way of truth shall be evil spoken of.”

What more damnable heresy than to banish judgment, make death a beautiful dream, shut out God, His Son, His Word, and Calvary’s great atoning work deny, for of what avail is it if death and judgment are no more?

Ah, ye blind guides, say, do, write what ye will, but still the fact remains, Death is here. Death—and afterward. And God has said, “Let God be true, but every man a liar” (Rom. 3:4). “It is appointed unto men once to die, but AFTER THIS THE JUDGMENT” (Heb. 9:27). “Oh, that men were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their lager end!” (Deut. 32:29.) Yes, O man, death and judgment are before you, and the lake of fire (Rev. 21:8). God has said it. You may shut your eyes to the dread reality, slumber on hell’s brink, until you are hushed fast asleep by the devil’s lullaby. “Peace, peace,” but God has said there is no peace to the wicked (Isa. 57:21), and those who believe not the truth shall be damned (2 Thess. 2:12).

Oh! self-deluded, sin-deluded, Satan-deluded sinner, when will you wake up to the awful snare in which the wicked one has entangled you; when, when will you listen to the blessed voice of Jesus, the Son of God? When will you listen to the Word of Him who made you, and whose loving heart yearns over you in your folly, and madness, and sin? “Thus saith the Lord, Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls. But they said, We will not walk therein. Also I set watchmen over you, saying, Hearken to the sound of the trumpet. But they said, We will not hearken. Therefore hear, ye nations, and know, O congregation, what is among them. Hear, O earth: behold, I will bring evil upon this people, even the fruit of their thoughts, because they have not hearkened unto my words, nor to my law, but rejected it” (Jer. 6:16-19).

Reader, we beg, we implore, we entreat you to listen ere it be too late. Death, death in all its dread reality, is before you, yes, death and afterwards―judgment, ― the solemn, awful, eternal judgment of a holy, holy, holy God, ―whosoever was not found written in the book of life was CAST INTO THE LAKE OF FIRE (Rev. 20:15).

One way, and one way only, is open to you to escape. God presents to you Christ. Away once and forever with your poetical dreams and sentimental delusions. It is wisely said, facts are stubborn things. Death, judgment, and the lake of fire are stubborn things indeed; come then to Jesus. Will you, dare you, pass Him by? Will you, dare you, still treat as a thing of naught the wondrous love of God in the gift of Christ? Oh! ponder the wondrous story once again, ponder it now! Think, think of those precious words, “God so loved.” Think of that Blessed Babe of Bethlehem, the lowly Saviour, the Man of sorrows, the Man of Sychar’s well, the Man of Gethsemane’s garden, the Man of Pilate’s judgment hall, the Man of Calvary’s tree. Think, O think of those hours of darkness, the bitter cup. Think of that holy Lamb of God, forsaken of men, forsaken of God. Is your heart already so hard, your conscience so seared, your immortal souk so callous that that awful cry, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” finds no response in you? Can you, dare you, go on―on to death, and afterwards the worm that never dies, the fire that never shall be quenched (Mark 9:43-48), ―trampling under your feet that precious, precious blood (the blessed answer to the soldier’s wicked thrust) that alone can cleanse you from all sin (1 John 1:7).

All this was for sinners; all this is for you, and yet infatuated, blinded, deluded, you prefer to rush upon your awful doom, though a risen and ascended Saviour on the throne of God, in glory stretches forth His arms of love and mercy, and bids your come to Him. Bliss, eternal bliss, joys unfading, glory unutterable, pleasures for evermore, the Father’s house, the place prepared, the presence of God, the company of Christ, are free as the air you breathe—and yet you will close your eyes, your ears, your heart, your conscience, your soul, prefer the embrace of Satan, satiate your sentimental soul with his gilded baits and shams, to wake up in his company in endless woe, where you will weep and wail and gnash your teeth in vain, and find with all there, when it is too late forever, the awful reality of death and afterwards.

Which is it to be? “If Thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt BE SAVED.”

(Rom. 10:9). E. H. C.

"Bought."

IN a lowly home, on a lowly bed, a young woman of twenty-one lay dying of consumption. She lay with her eyes closed, but the short labored breathing told that she would soon be “gone.”

Her mother sat silently watching her with almost breaking heart, and as she gazed upon the pale wan face of her dear one, once so blooming, her pent-up grief broke forth, and she sobbed aloud. The dying one opened her eyes and whispered, “Mother.” “Well, dear?” asked the mother, as she tenderly bent over her.

“Mother, you sometimes go to the shop and make purchases, don’t you?”

“Yes, Agnes,” answered the mother a little hesitatingly, for she feared that her mind had begun to wander.

“And, mother, when you pay down the money, haven’t you a right to bring away your purchases?” “Surely.”

The dying girl’s eye lighted up with luster, and her voice thrilled with earnestness, as she again asked, “Mother, when Christ has bought me―bought me with such a price―has He not a right to take home His purchase?” And the mother bowed her head, and her heart, too, was bowed, as she answered, “Yes.”

Child of God, dost thou know from what thou hast been redeemed? ―from all iniquity (Titus 2:14). Dost thou know with what thou hast been redeemed? ―even with the precious blood of Christ (1 Peter 1:18, 19). Dost thou know unto whom thou hast been redeemed? ―unto Himself (Titus 2:14). Then trifle not with aught that He has redeemed thee from. Remember “ye are not your own, for ye are BOUGHT with a price; therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s.” Y. Z.

"Out of Death into Life."

“Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.” ―John 5:24.

THIS is positive. Nothing can touch that “life.” “I live.” Christ is my life. Have you got it, precious soul? Is it yours? The soul that accepts not, who stops not to listen, must surely “come into judgment.” He does not “hear.”

The “Word” finds not an “entrance.” The incorruptible, living, and abiding Word of God is not there. Only darkness and death reigns. The soul that has not life eternal is not “passed out of death.” May God open the eyes of such.

More than fourteen years have passed since the Word of God entered into my heart, dispelling darkness and giving light. Not by any effort on my part, though try to obtain forgiveness I did, in my own foolish way. Many a miserable week was I trying to be saved, and nights spent in sleepless misery of soul. The devil was pleased to keep me from “giving up.” We are safe in the devil’s grasp as long as ever we go on trying to be saved, for until we cease there is “no hope,” for we are trying to do something when all is done, and to make ourselves fit for God’s presence we never can. ‘It is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.’ It is by Jesus’ blood we are redeemed unto God.

God knows the nature of that “precious blood.” Its cleansing power is without measure. The redeemed will sing its preciousness, and glory in that Lamb who was slain, throughout eternity.

To return to the subject of trying. I got tired of that. Having locked myself in a closet, in order that no one should find me out, there on my knees before God I cried in agony of soul. What a fearful time it was! Hell would only have been a continuation throughout eternity of what I felt, and that in the fire that never shall be quenched; but God, who is rich in mercy, plucked me as a brand from the fire. (Oh, sinners, as I value my own soul, I speak to you.) Being exhausted with weeping and kneeling, weary and worn with effort day by day, at last I sank on my face and hands prostrate on the floor, saying, “Then, O God, I must be lost!” I gave up trying. My rebellious will was broken. I thought that only hell was before me, and thus in agony, in the last extremity, I gave myself up, knowing I was only fit to burn, and that forever, and justly so, before God. Immediately that cry had been wrung from my wretched heart, “O God, I must be lost!” there, in that utter helplessness, the living and abiding Word of God found an entrance. I heard, I believed. By faith I saw the Saviour on Calvary’s cross, and those precious words, “It is finished,” spake peace to my soul. My load was gone. I, a new creature, “passed out of death into life.”

M. A. M. T.

A Last Warning; or, "Just in Time."

“JUST in time,” “I exclaimed, as I stood with a friend on the pier at―, watching the departure of the large passenger steamer E. O.” My exclamation was called forth by seeing a gentleman come rapidly down the pier, elbow his way energetically through the crowd of bystanders, and, though the gangways had been already removed, and the ship was in motion, throw hatbox and small portmanteau first, and then spring lightly from the pier, and land safely on the deck of the vessel.

“He was indeed only just in time; how narrowly he escaped being too late!” answered my friend.” I admire his courage and determination to make a desperate effort to gain the vessel while there was still even a hope. But what a risk he ran! It reminds me forcibly of an incident that occurred not long ago to one whom I knew well, and whose description of it made a very forcible impression on my memory, it seemed to me such an instance of the patience and longsuffering grace of our God, of His unwillingness that any should perish, and of the warning cries that He sends out.”

“Tell me,” I said; and he gave me the following short account, using, he said, as nearly as he could remember them, his friend’s own words.

“A little time back I was spending the afternoon of the Lord’s Day in distributing gospel books and tracts among a number of miners in the county of―. It was a lovely summer’s day, and the men were gathered in groups here and there, either sauntering slowly along, or sitting under the trees talking together and enjoying the pure air and the sunlight. The sunlight seemed a joy in itself to them, and the fresh air priceless, after working all the week in the darkness and unwholesome atmosphere of the mine. I was well known among them, and received many a hearty ‘Good day,’ or ‘God bless you,’ as I passed in and out among them, now sitting down to read for a time with some, now speaking a few words as to their souls’ salvation with others, as I gave them the little silent messengers which all told the same tale, though by different pens and in different ways, of the Saviour’s love,―the old old story, so wonderful yet so divinely true, the story of that Saviour’s cross of shame, His death to win life for guilty ruined man.

“I had given away nearly all the large package of books I had brought out with me, and was returning slowly to my home. I had almost reached it, indeed I, was crossing the last field that separated me from my own garden gate, when I met two young miners coming slowly towards me I stopped as we were about to pass each other, and selecting two little books from the few that remained in my hand, I held out one to each and said, ―

“ ‘Will you accept and read this?’”

“Each took the book I held out, and thanked me; and one, a fine, strong, healthy, and handsome young man of about twenty-five or twenty-six, stood still and read out the title-page of his, ‘Just in Time.’”

“A deep feeling of solemnity, amounting even to awe, crept over my soul, and looking up into his frank open countenance, I said, ―

“‘Yes, my friend, and God grant that you may be just in time for salvation, just in time for heaven.’ Again I repeated it, God grant that you may be just in time.’”

“He was a stranger to me, and I could not account for my sudden and deep interest in him. We had met for the first time that afternoon, and to look at him you would have said he had long years of life and health before him.”

“He did not sneer or scoff at my words, though he seemed surprised at a stranger thus so solemnly accosting him. ‘Thank you,’ he said quite earnestly, and we each passed on our way, I going home to ask the Lord of the harvest for His own blessing on the seed sown by the wayside, that He would not allow it to be devoured by the fowls of the air, so ready to snatch it away. Even as I prayed this young man’s face came before me again and again, till I cried, ‘Bless him, Lord; save him.’ Little I thought how soon, and under what circumstances, we should meet again.”

“On the following Tuesday night, only two days later, I had just retired to my room for the night, and was about to extinguish my light, when a loud knocking at the street door made me throw up my window to see what was the matter.”

“‘Who is there?’ I asked, seeing a young man standing at the door.”

“‘Are you Mr.―?’ was the answer.”

“Yes.”

“Will you come at once and see a young man in E―Street? He is dying, and wants you.”

“Have you not made a mistake? I know no one in E―Street.”

“No, sir; are you not the gentleman who gave a young man a book on Sunday afternoon called “Just in Time”?”

“‘Yes, I am; what of it?’”

“‘Please come at once,’ he said, ‘and I will tell you going along.’”

“Hastily I dressed and went out into the summer’s night, guided by my companion. On our way towards E―Street he told me that his mate had gone down the shaft that afternoon as usual, and had jumped out of the bucket ere it reached the bottom; he had done it dozens of times before, and feared no danger, but this time as he jumped his foot slipped. The descent of the bucket closed an iron trap-door, thus making a firm foundation for the vessel to rest upon. Owing to his foot slipping he was a moment too late to get clear of the iron door, and was caught by its closing, and crushed between it and the side of the shaft. His breast bones were broken in, and he was lying there, his friend said, in terrible agony, unable to speak, only making a gurgling sound if he attempted it, and just gasping for breath, while his life seemed ebbing fast away.”

“By the time the young man had finished his story, adding many details which I need not relate to you now, we reached the cottage, and I entered. What a scene met my gaze! There lay the fine strong man, whom I had seen only two days before in the full vigor of health and youth, now absolutely helpless. The pallor of his face was ghastly his eyes were almost starting in their sockets feebly he gasped for breath, and over him hung his young wife, the wife of but one short week, with lips and cheeks almost as colorless as his own, in speechless, tearless agony.”

“He looked fixedly at me as I entered, and tried to speak; it was useless, no word would come.”

“Shall I read with you and pray for you?” I said.

“He made a low hissing sound, the only approach to ‘Yes’ he could make.”

“I read to him that ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life;’ and I spoke to him of the love of God in desiring his salvation; of the efficacy of the blood of Christ to save him. I told him he was lost and ruined by nature, but that Jesus came to seek and to save the lost; that Jesus had been seeking him, wanted him; that having done the work by which sin could be put away out of God’s sight, He could now bring the sinner right into God’s presence. As simply as I could, I besought him to take his place as a sinner and trust Jesus as a Saviour; and then I knelt down and besought the God of grace to give him faith now to lay hold of Christ ere it were too late, to give him the knowledge of the forgiveness of all his sins through that precious blood which cleanseth from all sin.”

“Even as I prayed, one after another of his mates came crowding into the little room, all full of rough sympathy, and many a coat sleeve was brushed across the eyes of brave men to hide the tears that would rise unbidden at the sight of the strong man’s agony, and the young wife’s speechless woe.”

“The scene was too much for me, and for a few moments I went aside into the open air, lest I should break down entirely, for rarely, if ever, had I seen a sight so pitiful.”

“I had been but a few minutes out of the room when my name was called hurriedly, and I returned to the sick man’s side. As I entered the room his eyes rested on me entreatingly, with a look at once despairing and beseeching. Again I said, ‘Shall I read and pray?’ and again came the painful effort on his part to speak, and then the low hissing sound of assent. I read to him this time the story of the father and the prodigal (Luke 15), and then I also read to him the prayers of the Pharisee and the publican, and repeated this one verse, ‘Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.’ And while strong men bowed and wept, I cried to God once more, to the living God, to save his soul now at the eleventh hour, and to give him the knowledge of pardon and peace and salvation through the blood of the Lamb.”

“As I finished, his face changed. The damp of death and the pallor of the grave were upon it, but hope lighted it up, despair had fled. He signed for a drink, and his wife held the glass of water to his lips while he raised his head gently to enable him to take it. He drank a little, and then, to the amazement of all, he who had been unable to utter a sound beyond the low hissing noise so painful to listen to, said out in a clear painless voice, and with eyes lifted up as though he saw the One to whom he was speaking: ―

“‘Just in time! God be merciful to me a sinner, for Jesus Christ’s sake, Amen!’”

“He had scarcely uttered the last word when his head fell back on the pillow, a little shivering sigh escaped him, and we were in the presence of the dead.

“Never shall I forget the scene. To many a one present it was a warning word from the very gates of death, the brink of eternity, and God used it for blessing.”

Reader, will not you take warning by it, lest for you not “Just in time,” but “Too late,” be the terrible words that record your fate? X.

"Yes, at Perfect Rest, Trusting in Christ."

SUCH was the rejoinder given when, one day seated in his shop, Mr. B. put to his friend Mr. O. the important question, whether he had anything to rest upon for eternity. O. had grown old in the fulfillment of his arduous and perplexing duties as commercial traveler. Habituated to “pushing trade,” and avoiding what would interfere with this object, he was unknown to many of his acquaintances as a true believer in the Lord Jesus Christ. Mr. B. had known him for several years, often felt desirous of speaking to him of the Lord and His salvation, and this day he found his opportunity. O. had called, as usual, to solicit an order; and while discussing the depressed state of business throughout the country, the conversation soon turned upon the sudden death of the leading partner of a well-known firm in the city, B., T., & Co.

O. remarked, “I suppose that is how it will be with myself one of these days.” B. seized the coveted opportunity, and inquired as to how his friend stood with God, in terms already alluded to. O.’s whole bearing changed, the clouds disappeared; the gloom begotten by depressed business, death, and kindred reflections, gave place to brightness and joy, as he replied, “Yes, at perfect rest, ―perfect rest, trusting in Christ.”

And, O dear reader, what rest! Rest for time, rest for eternity. Rest in view of “judgment to come,” ―yea, “boldness.” Rest of conscience through the blood-shedding of Christ; rest of heart in the Person of Christ, the all-satisfying Portion of the redeemed throughout eternity. This rest He offers unto all. Hear His word: ― “Come unto me, and I will give you rest.” He died to secure it for us as a gift, ―died to satisfy the requirements of divine justice when nothing else, nothing less, could suffice. Say, have you profited by that death? Have you found out your need of it? Do you not find yourself ill at ease at the thought of meeting God? Rest you may have, in believing that Jesus bare your “sins in his own body on the tree.”

“God will not payment twice demand, ―

First at my bleeding Surety’s hand,

And then again at mine.”

Wonderful to say, O.’s words were almost prophetic, as the sequel proved. In a few days after this conversation, a circular reached B. to say that “in consequence of the sudden death of their traveler, Mr. O., his son, had been appointed to fill his place” in behalf of the firm.

Sudden deaths may be regarded as of infrequent occurrence, but they do occur; and what unwisdom it is to risk one’s eternal interests for the gratification of the heart’s lusts, hoping and supposing one may not be thus summoned into the presence of a holy, sin-hating God!

God is Love; and that blessed God thus pleads with all and each: ― “Come Now, and let us reason together. Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”

May the reader hearken, and accept this invitation from God, as the expression of that saving love in which the most guilty may confide.

J. K.

"The Bible Out of Date."

WHAT a startling statement! Surely that can never be true!

Is it not the boast of Christians, that every book that is written grows old and out of date except the Bible? Does not it keep abreast of the times; and does not Christ Himself say, “Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away” (Luke 21:33). Also in 1 Peter 1:25― “But the word of the Lord endureth forever.” Yes, those verses are blessedly true, and all the blessings that Christians get through God’s Word will last forever, and the judgments recorded upon the rejecters of the gospel will be carried out, and that for eternity.

Then what do you mean by the Bible being out of date? What I mean is this. There will undoubtedly come a time in the history of this world when the Bible will be out of date. For more than eighteen hundred years pardon has been proclaimed to rebellious man through the finished work of the Lord Jesus Christ on the cross.

Before the Lord Jesus Christ left this earth, He promised to return, and take His own to be forever with Himself; and since He has ascended into heaven, He has sent this message to His own. “He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly; Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.” He may come any moment― “For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first; then we which are alive and remain, shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord” (1 Thess. 4:16, 17). When this happens (and it might possibly, nay probably, be while you read this paper), then

The Great Open-air Meeting

will take place. Every blood-washed one from Adam downwards will form part of that grand open-air gathering. From the graves of countless churchyards―from the battlefields of centuries―from the depths of the ocean-from the catacombs of Rome―from the uttermost parts of the earth they will come; and the Christians (possessors, not professors) living on the earth at the time will also go to take their place in this great gathering in the air.

Then will come true the scripture in Matthew 25:10― “They that were ready went in with him to the marriage and the door was shut.” The Lord Jesus Christ will conduct the host of the redeemed with infinite satisfaction into His Father’s house, into heaven itself. Then the gospel invitations of the Bible will be out of date for those who have heard the gospel and rejected it. Awfully solemn! Then will take place the fulfillment of Revelation 6:16-17,

The Great Prayer-meeting.

All the empty professors of Christianity will be there—all those who were satisfied with a fair exterior without the inside being right—who preferred a cloak of religion to Christ in the heart.

Wake up, then, ye careless, godless, Christless professors, “having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof.” It is time yet for salvation. Be in earnest. Tomorrow might, nay probably will, be too late. Look well to your foundations far eternity.

What is the yearning cry that will then ascend into the very vault of heaven from the agonized hearts of these now-awakened professors? “Lord, Lord, open to us.” What is the heart-withering, hope-crushing response to their earnest cry?

“I know you not,” and “Depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity” (Luke 13:27). Matthew 7:7 says― “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you.” Now, that is blessedly true; THEN, it is too late; for, they ask to be refused; seek, not to find; knock, to be denied admittance. Then that verse will be solemnly out of date, “Now is the accepted time; behold, NOW is the day of salvation” (2 Cor. 6:2). Do not in madness put off the salvation of your never-dying soul, dear reader, till a death-bed or some future day, but at once decide for Christ without delay.

The infidel may scoff, and the professor doubt, that the Lord Jesus Christ will come from heaven in such a way soon, but, like the scoffers and doubters in Noah’s time, they will be grievously undeceived some day soon―undeceived to their own eternal damnation. “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved” (Acts 16:31). “The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin” (1 John 1:7) “And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely” (Rev. 22:17).

Will you form part of the great open-air meeting, or take part in the great prayer-meeting?

A. J. P.

"They Shall Never Perish."

MANY were the weary months the subject of this paper had spent, when abroad, in the vain search for rest of heart by means of good resolutions and prayers. At one time upon the hill-top, and at another in the valley; today rejoicing, and tomorrow despairing; at one moment coming to Jesus as Saviour, shortly afterward dreading Him as Judge; he realized in very truth those sad lines which are so expressive of the state of many a soul at the present day―

“‘Tis a point I long to know,

Oft it causes anxious thought, ―

Do I love the Lord or no?

Am I His, or am I not?”

Is this your state, dear reader?

At length, one Lord’s Day evening, in a dissenting chapel in Hertfordshire, during the course of an address based upon 2 Samuel 23:15― “Oh that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate!”―utterance was given to the following words, which he had never noticed before, and now admired as peculiarly beautiful and striking― “My sheep... shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand” (John 10:28).

But days and months passed away, and from his memory these words likewise passed away, thus leaving the point he longed to know still a matter of uncertainty and doubt. Prayers, good resolutions, self-examinations and regrets, were carried on with unabated vigor, until (for so the Lord had ordered it) a gospel magazine fell into his hands, the first chapter of which was founded upon the words― “My sheep... shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.”

They were at once recognized, and an interest in them was again revived, the mind being drawn off for awhile to Jesus, from whose lips alone such gracious words could proceed. As before, so now, they were admired—but only admired, and not received into the soul “mixed with faith.” However, the Lord was still waiting to be gracious.

Many weeks after this event there was a Church of England missionary meeting in the town, and he was present. Being somewhat dejected and cast down, he had chosen a seat in a remote corner of the room, from whence he listened with an earnestness those only can understand who have known what it is to sigh and long for peace.

Amongst the speakers at this meeting was a dear clergyman, who had formerly been a missionary in India. At the close of an affectionate and solemn address, he turned his face towards the anxious one, and pointing at him with his finger said, with never-to-be-forgotten emphasis and power― “I believe that when once a sinner becomes a child of God, he is always a child; when once he is known as a sheep of the Good Shepherd, he is always a sheep― ‘my sheep... shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.’”

It was enough. The truth was known at last. The cords that bound him were loosened by the hands of the Good Shepherd; and peace and joy flowed into the troubled heart, and calmed the anxious soul which the truth had now set free. Thus the long and bitter experience of Romans 7 was exchanged for the glorious sunshine and liberty of Romans 8.

Coming out of the meeting that night he ran to his home with a joyful heart, repeating over and over again to himself those precious and soul-emancipating words― “Never perish!” “Never perish!” “Never perish!”

Dear reader, are you one of the sheep of the Lord Jesus? He says― “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.”

“Peace, what a precious sound!

Tell it the world around

Christ hath made peace!

Our souls are brought to God

By His awning blood,

And crowned with every good:

Christ hath made peace.”

N. L. N.

"This Year Thou Shalt Die."

GOD usually warns before He judges. So infinite is His mercy and grace that, perhaps, even one might not go beyond the truth in saying that He always does. Scripture abounds with instances. Sodom was visited by two heavenly messengers the day before the fire of God consumed it (Gen. 19). Pharaoh had warnings in abundance long before his final doom. His chariot wheels came off some hours before he “sank as lead in the mighty waters” (Ex. 14, 15). The impious Chaldean monarch had his warning written before his eyes by the “fingers of a man’s hand,” and from the lips of Daniel heard, “God hath numbered thy kingdom and finished it,” hours before the enemy gained ingress to the city, yet “in that night was Belshazzar, the king of the Chaldeans, slain” (Dan. 5). Judas got his warning when the Lord said, “One of you shall betray me.” He heeded it not, and went “to his own place” (John 13, Acts 1). Pilate was well and wisely warned, when, even on the judgment seat, he got the message from his wife― “Have thou nothing to do with that just man.” Disregarding it he signed the Lord’s death-warrant, and who shall say not his own at the same moment of time?

How different might have been the end, for time and eternity, of all these men, had God’s warning been heeded, His message believed, and His mercy besought; had repentance and self-judgment taken the place of unbelief and indifference.

The five words which head this paper were God’s warning message to another man. Hananiah was a false prophet. Unsent of God, he prophesied lies in His name. To him came the word of God, “Hear now, Hananiah, the Lord hath not sent thee; but thou makest this people to trust in a lie. Therefore, thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will cast thee from off the face of the earth; this year thou shalt die, because thou hast taught rebellion against the Lord. So Hananiah the prophet died the same year, in the seventh month” (Jer. 28:15-17).

It was in the fifth month of the year (see 5:1) that Hananiah uttered his false prophecy and got his warning― “this year thou shalt die”; and “Hananiah the prophet died the same year in the seventh month” is God’s record of what took place. His word ever comes true.

Reader, we have reached the twelfth month of this year, and you are yet alive, though God may have spoken as to you, “This year thou shalt die.” May I ask, Are your ready to die? Are you converted? Are you prepared to meet God? Are your sins all washed away? If not, you have not much time left. A few more brief days and 1888 will be numbered in the past, and if “THIS YEAR THOU SHALT DIE” apply to you, it surely behooves you to be on the alert.

Very likely you will say—How do you know I shall die this year? I do not know it, nor affirm it, but God knows, and if your days on earth are numbered, where will you go when you die? Will you spend eternity in heaven or hell? There is no third place. Annihilation is a lure of the devil to get careless sinners to go on in sin till it be too late. Believe it not, my friend. Dear unsaved fellow-sinner, death is before you—two deaths. “It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment.” What is that? The second death, which Revelation 21:8 describes as “the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone.” Surely, to die once is enough. Then you pass out of man’s sight, but do not cease to exist. In the second death you pass out of God’s sight, but, appalling thought, exist as long as He does. He is the eternal God, and yours will be eternal judgment.

Really, my friend, it is time you were alive to your future. You need not be a gross, scandalous sinner to ensure these two deaths. You have only to go on quietly as you are, in unbelief, and disregard of God’s word (and He may be giving you your warning by this paper, viz., “this year THOU shalt die”) to seal your eternal doom.

Quite possibly you may argue―The chances are greatly against my dying this year, it has nearly sped by, and I am young and hale.

So might have retorted three young men, in the full possession of health and strength, as they, one week evening, heard a friend of mine preach from the words― “This year thou shalt die.” The next evening the mangled corpses of all the three were found in a railway cutting. Crossing this, as a short way home from work, an express train overtook and slew them. As to their souls and eternity, nothing was known. They had never confessed Christ, but God had coupled the gospel with the warning they heard overnight.

Death has indeed been busy this year, and my unsaved reader may well heed the poet’s words: ―

“Both old and young the dart of death
Lays level with the dust;
So, reader, whilst you still have breath
Make Christ alone your trust.”

Your heart, sinner, is the target at which death relentlessly shoots his arrows, and possibly, even as you read this, the shaft is being put to the bow which shall fulfill the solemn words, “This year thou shalt die.”

For a man to continue in his sins, unrepentant, unforgiven, unwashed, unsaved, when grace is calling him to a Saviour, is folly of the deepest dye. Who can gainsay it? Do you, my reader? Let me tell you what has happened “this year” to others. I was holding, dome special gospel meetings in a country village, lasting over a month. The last night I spoke on Acts 17, where Paul at Athens “preached unto them Jesus and the resurrection,” and then added, “God... now commandeth all men everywhere to repent; because he hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness, by that Man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men in that he hath raised him from the dead” (vers. 30, 31). The effect on his hearers is thus given: ― “And when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked; and others said, We will hear thee again of this matter. So Paul departed from among them. Howbeit certain men clave unto him, and believed” (vers. 32, 34). His audience was split into three classes-mockers, procrastinators, and believers. That night I pressed greatly the folly of procrastination. One man, noted for his godlessness and indifference, who was present, fell dead next day without one moment’s warning, and with no confession of Christ on his lips. He had got his warning over-night, “This year thou shalt die,” but I fear heeded it not.

Again, a Christian man I know, repeatedly brought an acquaintance to hear the gospel from my lips during the past summer. At the end of the meeting I, on two or three occasions, spoke with him. At first he treated the matter of his soul’s salvation rather jocularly. The last time I saw him he was more sober, but unsaved, and undecided, and said, “I will hear you again.” He did not, nor ever will. A few days later his friend heard him humming―

“I can believe, I do believe,

That Jesus died for me.”

“Is that true?” said the Christian. “No,” was the honest, but sad answer, “but I wish it were.” Ten days later, he suddenly fell on the pavement, became unconscious, and in twelve hours passed into eternity, with no further testimony that is known. God had said, “THIS YEAR SHALT THOU DIE,” and he had got his warning.

Depend upon it, my reader, you are getting yours. These solemn facts are true, and, if you are inclined to regard them as mere coincidences, which preacher and writer of the present day are wont to cite, let me affectionately urge on you to carefully peruse, yea, get off by heart, the following weighty words of one long since gone to his rest. Truly wrote Young: ―

“By nature’s law, what may be, may be now;

There’s no prerogative in human hours.

In human hearts what bolder thought can rise,

Than man’s presumption on tomorrow’s dawn?

Where is tomorrow? In another world.

For numbers this is certain; the reverse

Is sure to none; and yet on this perhaps,

This peradventure, infamous for lies,

As on a rock of adamant, we build

Our mountain hopes; spin our eternal schemes,

As we the fatal sisters could out-spin,

And, big with life’s futurities, expire.

Not e’en Philander had bespoke his shroud:

Nor had he cause; a warning was denied.

How many fall as sudden, not as safe?

As sudden, though for years admonish’d home.

Of human ills the last extreme beware,

Beware, Lorenzo! a slow, sudden death.

How dreadful that deliberate surprise!

Be wise today; ‘tis madness to defer;

Next day the fatal precedent will plead;

Thus on, till wisdom is pushed out of life:

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.

If not so frequent, would not this be strange?

That ‘tis so frequent, this is stranger still.”

Such words should be graven on the heart of every procrastinator. Reader, are you such? Let me urge you to at once come to Jesus. You may well trust Him. Trusting Him, pardon, peace, and eternal life are yours. For the Christian there is nothing but glory with Christ ahead of him. He has a title without a flaw to that glory. It is his Saviour’s blood. He has a prospect without a cloud. Every cloud is gone. The sin that was his has been borne by Jesus. The death and judgment, that sin demand, have been endured by Jesus, in his room and stead. Thus he has “peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

For the believer death, should it come, is but the doorway into glory. I stood at the bedside of an aged believer but a week since. Among her last words, as she quietly winged her way to glory, were these: ―

“So calm, so safe, so satisfied,

The soul that clings to Thee.”

Come, say, dear friend, will you not turn to Jesus now and believe on Him? Let me entreat you. The time past of your life may surely suffice to have wrought your own will. Let this be the deciding hour. Let the closing days of 1888 find you really on the Lord’s side. You have but to come to Him, as you are. No works of yours are needed. All the work has been done by Jesus. “It is finished” is the legacy of the dying Saviour to the needy sinner. Receive this priceless heirloom, and then, should God’s will be, that “this year thou shalt die,” your happy portion will be “to depart and be with Christ which is far better.”

It is important to remember, however, that the believer is not looking for death (the unsaved sinner has nothing else but that, and judgment, to look for) but for the Lord’s second coming. Cheering indeed are the words, “God hath not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain salvation by our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, that, whether we watch or sleep we should live together with him” (1 Thess. 5:9, 10). “To live together with him.” There, dear fellow-believer, is our eternal destiny. “And they have no rest day nor night” (Rev. 14:11) solemnly describes the eternity of the lost soul.

May God, in His infinite goodness, lead you, my reader, if hitherto undecided for Christ, this moment to decide for Him, for, again I repeat, concerning you the word may have gone out of His lips―a word of warning―which though unheeded will not be unremembered in hell―

“THIS YEAR THOU SHALT DIE.”

W. T. P. W.

The Gospel Messenger: Volume 3 (1888)

Table of Contents

Something to Rest Upon.

Between the Years.

Who Next?

Thomas Bilney, A.D. 1530.

Bread Cast Upon the Waters.

The Fatal Choice.

An Acrostic.

"The Blood of Jesus Christ His Son Cleanseth Us from All Sin."

The Phoenix Park Murder.

The World's Spelling Bee.

The Comfort of the Blood.

To the Reader.

"There Is but One Way to Heaven, and Nobody Knows It."

Do You Hope, or Know, That You Have Eternal Life?

"I Am Doing My Best."

To Him That Worketh Not.

The Two Wills.

"Traveler to Eternity, Consider."

"Haud on, Dearie, He'll No' Shake Ye Aff."

The Two Sons.

What Think Ye of Christ?

"I Don't Feel Right; There's Something Awanting."

The Lawful Captive Delivered.

Religion or Christ.

The Doom of Christendom

"All About Christ."

The Gravedigger.

"Watch and Pray."

"Be Ye Therefore Ready Also."

Tom's New Song; or, "Afraid of the Consequences."

Lost or Saved! Which?

Ready.

The Gypsy's Creed.

Tom and the Capucin Monk; Or, From Darkness to Light.

"The Wrath of God."

"Faith Cometh by Hearing."

The Witness of Men, and the Witness of God.

How Martin Boos Found Peace.

"This Man Receiveth Sinners."

Love's Necessity, and Faith's Blessing.

The Warning Despised; the Warning Heeded.

A Brief Word of Exhortation.

"God Says It; Oh, What Joy!"

True Liberty.

Have Mercy on Your Children!

How to Get the Blessing.

"I'm All Right, Sir;" or, "Do You Know the Lord?"

"What Shall I Do?"

Some Particulars in the History of the Conversion of a Soul.

"Be Not Deceived."

Christ Jesus Came into the World to Save Sinners.

"As He Is, so Are We."

"Once It Might Have Been."

Callings from the Gospel of God.

"I Lost My Grip."

"What Shall I Do?"

"The Sin of Unbelief."

There's a Saviour for You.

"What Shall I Do?"

Milk Without Money; or, a Lesson We Must All Learn.

"It Is All Clear Now."

"Death, and Afterward."

"Bought."

"Out of Death into Life."

A Last Warning; or, "Just in Time."

"Yes, at Perfect Rest, Trusting in Christ."

"The Bible Out of Date."

"They Shall Never Perish."

"This Year Thou Shalt Die."