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Les diagrammes suivants lllustrent la m^thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 •i^^mamfim. )'^.H^' RE VERIES -:- RE VIE WS RECOLLECTIONS. BY EEV. joh:n^ hunt. TORONTO: WILLIAM BRIGGS, 78 & 80 KING STREET EAST. Montreal: C. W. Coatks. Haukax: S. F. Hukstw. 1887. -i. PREFACE. gf ORE than fifty years ago, in the days of my ^^^^ boyhood, I began to contribute to newspapers and magazines. Since that time seldom has a month elapsed but I have done something in the same line. To fulfil the ministry given to me by God and His Church has always been my first duty, literary enter- prise but secondary. The papers now given to the public have, some of them, been published before— a couple of them more than forty years ago. They have all been remodelled, and some entirely re- written. I am doing this solely for the love of it. If anyone is pleased or profited, I, too, shall be both pleased and profited. If anyone sees fit to criticise, it will not hurt me. THE AUTHOR. 121 Wilton Avknde, ToHONTO, Juiie, 1887. JIU^ d-x •l^j^^jiliv^rrsw^aiitaj,, , CONTENTS. Reverie No. 1 , « Reverie No. 2 ^ ^ jg Revivals and Revivalists 23 Times of Refreshing oo God in the History of Methodism 37 Inspiration of the Holy Spirit the Secret of Power 93 Science and Religion : a Review iq« The Backslider's Death bed jj4 Timothy Oldboy's Recollections 120 The Sunday-school and the Church of the Future 128 Poems — Fftrewell to Home jor Elora j„g ^"^y 138 Christ's Nativity j^q On the Death of my only Daughter 143 The Ouardian Angel j^g Autumn ,.- Lines to Mary Eliza 249 To Mary Eliza in Heaven jqq To the Youn^ Men of (Juelph jgo The Infant's Burial jg« 'm»*9^S''^mmi>mm- ■ (I ■J ■::m»*^.'S^'^tmmu>mtm Reveries-Reviews-Recollection! REVERIE No. I. "I am pleased, and yet I'm 3a.d."—ffenri/ Kirke White. fHERE are few things, perhaps, which tend more ^ to give the countenance a melancholy cast than a thoughtful turn of mind. Misfortune may blanch the fairest cheek and soften the most rugged features, and when musing on our personal ills we are led to assume a sad appearance. But this is not what I mean— it is a sorrowful sadness. I mean a melan- choly which arises from a natural thoughtf ulness, from being habituated to muse with our own fantasy. This is a pleasing sadness, which I think we may safely con- clude there are but few who enjoy, as we continually hear about driving away thought, and to be found thinking will ruin a man with half the world. In this case I measure not my conduct by the opinion of the world, as for upwards of twenty years my own bosom has been the only receptacle of my various phantasms. Except a short time, I have never had a friend to whom I gould unbend my spirit. But this 2 10 REVERIES— REVIEWS— RECOLLECrriONS. I I if want has been at least partially supplied from an apti- tude to commune with my own thoughts, and a dili- gent application to that inexhaustible source of pleasure —books. It may have produced a somewhat morbid state of mind, and a degree of unsociableness, but the pleasure has been proportionate. I am not going to descant on the pleasures of melan- choly, that were superfluous. It has already been done by abler pens than mine. I wish to indicate that I stand alone in the world— that the greater part of my pleasures arise from contemplation. While I saunter along, with a countenance that few care to look upon, none to address, I am mentally pleased while looking inio the various characters which chance may throw in my way. Here comes the man of business. See what an air of bustle and fatigue there is about him. He pants and blows as if it were summer. He has thrown open his waistcoat to catch a little air ; while I, who am nothing but skin and lones, am almost frozen. But here floats along the supercilious lady, with her cloak trimmed with costly furs. See what a hauteur she has ; but then perhaps she is a beauty and a belle. How disdainfully she looks -at passers-by— how con- descendingly she bows to yon cavalier on his pranc. ing steed ! He acknowledges it as the greatest favor. What a contrast there is between her and that modest, pretty girl who follows her ! She is conscious of her beauty, but wishes not to blazon it for "h to every one. If she is saluted, she gracefully returns it, and passes on, Hers is a happy lot; sh^ is jealous of no one. i '^'.T^pmtff^mi REVERIE NO. I. 11 She cares not for the frivolities of fashion which fasci- nate others in her station. But here is a group of young ones. Hear the brats, how they halloo. Theirs is the heyday of youth and happiness ; although their skin looks through their clothes in divers places, they will think of these days when they have to provide for themselves. At present they have nothing to care for ; when they have eaten one meal, scanty though it be, they think not where the next is to come from. After all, they are a miserable-looking set, but they know it not. Some of them are without hats, another has no jacket or waistcoat, another has but the remnant of a pair of trousers, and there is one little wretch who has no shirt. Ha ! there is a scuffle among them. They have agreed upon a match at snow-balling, and It is now being carried into effect. How they scamper about, how they tear up the snow, not earth ! 'Tis as good as a battle. How they scoop it into places where it can reach the skin, and these are not wanting! Each in his turn is rolled in and covered with snow. 'Tis a wonder they are not frozen, but their souls are m the work. But whose splendid equipage is that which fast approaches ? In what state it glides along ! Nodding plumes are there. The gay, the merry, the thoughtless are there. How loud is their laugh ! The very horses are conscious of their glee. They are like the brats whom they have passed, free from care. When this fe'te is ended they have only to contrive another, more splendid if possible ; and so on, day after day, month after month, year after year, till old 12 REVERIES— REVIEV/S— RECOLLECTIONS. age comes on, or as long as " life's fitful Jieam shall last," when they shall sink into the grave unremem- bered but by their immediate acquaintances. It may be there are those among them who can boast of learning, of genius. Theirs is a misspent life. Their genius, their learning, is wasted among the frivolous. Their splendid sayings, their brilliant witticisms, die with them. Well, well ; sweep on, ye proud ones of the world; six feet of earth will do for you ere long. Your sables will be of no use to you then — worms will crawl over your delicate limbs. You will soon be, like the loath- some mendicant, as if you had never been. Not a ves- tige of one will be found more than the other. Con- template this for a short space — does your flesh crawl, do you shudder at the thought ? I speak not this in bitterness ; I care not for the idle pageantry of the rich and great. Give me to drink at the fount of Arethusse— let me dive into the traditionary lore of days gone by ; 'tis all I ask. The world's pleasures are nothing to me ; I view them all with jaundiced eyes, I can join in none of their gaieties. Rather, far rather, had I muse on the fate of those who have left a halo around their names, which sliall burn bright and more bright until memory shall cease to exist. They whose names have lived hundreds, thou- sands of years, on the pages of heroic song, will exist forever. Oh, what a thought ! Could they now re- visit the earth, and .see and hoar what we see and hear, what would be their emotions ? Ti»uir names repeated REVteRlE No. 1. 13 by a thousand tongues, bestowing praises which none will gainsay. Oh, divine bards ! may your rest be sweet ; may ministering angels attend your every want. The reader of these Reveries must not expect to find that polished style, that studied elegance, which characterize the writings of the present day. They are not the productions of " hours of idleness," but the overflowings of moments snatched from oblivion- They will consist of reflections, incidents of my inter- course with the world; in fact, of anything which may serve to illustrate facts. There are always occurrences even in everyday life which a philosophical mind uiay turn to some account. I claim not the title of a philo- sopher, but, as I said before, I find a pleasure in con- templating nature in every garb. Perhaps I cannot better conclude this paper than by relating the story of the dervise, though at the risk of telling a thrice-told tale : Certain merchants were travelling across the desert, with a caravan, when one camel accidentally strayed from the main body. When it became known, one of the merchants immediately v/ent in search of him. While wandering about, he accidentally fell in with an old dervise, of whom he made inipiiry concerning his camel. " Your camel," said the dervise, " has passed over the hill yonder; he was laden on one side with barley " (the merchant assented), " on the other with honey ?" " Yes." " He is blind of an eye ?" " Yes." '• He has a front tooth broken ?" " Ym" " The hoof 14 REVERIES— REVIEWS— RECOLLECTIONS. ofhisrightfore-foofc is broken?" "The same," said the merchant; "and now, since you have described him so well, you can, of course, give me some information where I may find him." "None whatever," replied the dervise. " What 1 after giving the most accurate description possible, not tell me where you have seen Inm ?" "I have not seen your camel," said the dervise Provoked by the apparent obstinacy of the old man the merchant took him before the Cadi in order to ex- tort the necessary information. The case beino- stated he was asked why he refused to relate where he had seen the camel. " I have already told the truth," said he ; " I have not seen the camel. Living, as I do, in the midst of the desert, it is but seldom that I meet with my fellow-men. But passing to-day over the hillside I observed the track of a lame camel. Barlev was scattered on one side of the way ; on the other ^I saw lioney— from this I inferred what his burden consisted of. I also observed the herbage was cropped on one side only; by this I judged he was blind. I saw he had a broken tooth by a mark on the bushes which were eaten off. It was from these observations that I was enabled to describe the camel. From these cir- cumstances you may see, though I have lived all my life in the desert, I have ever found ample scope for contemplation." M REVERIE NO. It. 16 REVERIE No. II. '* Oh ! there are tears, — big bursting tears for thee." Ia^^T^ have had numerous accounts of supernatural Xoy beings presiding over, or watching the des- tiny of, particular individuals. The most remarkable of these is, probably, the demon of Socrates, which always warned him of any approaching evil. What his demon was we have nothing to do with at present. The agency of spirits has been allowed in all ages, and even at the present day obtains belief among the vulgar. Whether these spirits are of a good or bad charac- ter, they always appear to be eminently qualified for tlieir station. Each on<; is acquainted with the secret thoughts and desires of his protege. Hesiod says: " Millions of spiritual cieatures walk the earth un- seen." It has been the opinion of some that every individual has his guardian angel. Be this as it may, there are comparatively but few that have revealed themselves. The instance I am about to relate will serve as one illustration. It had more effect on me, probably from my more intimate ac(iuaintance with the facts, than any other of which I have any knowledge. Nathan Ifarwood, I think T may say, was the only true friend I ever possessed. His whole soul was «l if lu IIKM.IMKS- llRVFKH-S—lifK ■01,1,1.:, TK.Ms. tornuHl lor i,„.n,l.sl,i,,. H,„.n an,l „„,.t„r..,l in tl„. lap ot Inxnry, tlioio was «„ ,,.ss,.ntial m\;;;m, iK-twoon "s.. N.,twitl..stan.li„s this. „„,■ |,„r.s„it., wor. hh n,ucl. as i„«s>l,le tl,„ .sa„„.. At an .arly a«« I,., lo,st l,otl, l,is paronts, a.„l over atVr l,i,s co„„t,.,mnc« wore a „„.|aM. cho\y HsiH.ct. Mis ,s„,il„ was a «l„.„.,v o,.e; y.,t he wa.s not «>oro.s« „,• ,vp„|siv,., for ho h«,| the ldn,h.«t hoa,. that cvor boat i„ vital Iran,,.. I|„ wa.s alwuy.s -..elte.l at the recital of a tnl,. of „.,„., „n,l with a l.l>ora hnn,I w,is ,.v..r r<.a,ly to ,..Nten,l r,.lief. | l,ave sa„l that ,>ur pursuits wre .sin.ilar m nu.eh as p,«s|. ble hvery evoninj; fonn,l „s tog-.ther; „,, r..a,l to- Kother; each ,.no kn.nv of the oth..r's projects for the i..ture; we critijiz,..! each other's prodnctions He was the only „„„ ,,,,„ i,,,,,^^ j,„^^ , ^^^ ^ ^^ poetry. Never shall J for,,..t th.. tin,,. I (irst s,.nt „„„ ot iny pr,„l„ctio„s into the worKI. 1 |,a,I f„,„„.,| the < .■s.j.n, an.l to,,k th,. lirst oppo,.t.,nity to con,n.,n,icate It to my iriond. Ho approve,! it, an,l we sel,.cte,i a piece-not the iH-st, nor the w„rst-^an,l sent it forth to the e.litor of a ne,sh boring peri„,lieal. We were sitting t„Ketl„.r abo„ a week after when we recivcl the paper; I took It with a tre«,blinfj han,l an,! b,.i.an to ,„,fol,l it I .scarcely knew what I ,li,l_| tre,„l,le,l in every lh„b Alternately hope an,l fear pr,.lo„,inat...l, a -lizxlness cun>c over me, 1 felt as if 1 ,l„r,. not unfohl it, an.l be'- ore n.y task was accon,plis!,e,l the paper fell fron, un- n-n-l. My late tl,r„„,.h life vppoare,! to be involveil in that paper. I thought ,uy happi„,.ss or misery Je- UKVKlllK No. II. 17 pondcfl iijK)rr it. Nathan took it up, wliilo a Hinil(3 played on Iuh countonanco, and procetHled to oxaniine the contents. Ho tvn'ned th. As more er of Still n the )f the b, and as of something cutting the air, and the lark fell dead at our feet. Poor bird ! he had exhausted himself, and this was the penalty. Nathan and myself stood and looked at the bird without uttering a word : I raised my eyes to look at my friend, — his frame was con- vulsed — big tears of agony rolled down his cheeks. I could refrain no longer, I burst out into tears with him. ' My dear H.," said he, " I am going to die ! How emblematical is that poor lark of me ! I, like him, have strained every nerve in striving to bring forth harmony, sweet and melodious. Like him it was for my own pleasure, and like him I shall die." I en- deavored to soothe his excited feelings ; I saw there was some further disclosure to make, but did not im- mediately in(|uire. In & few minutes he became more calm, and said, " I will tell you all — 1 should have told you before, but knowing your antipathy to a belief in such like stories, I did not wish to incur your ridicule." We now turned toward home, and he related to me how he had been warned of approaching death. It would have been cruel — in fact I never thought of ridicule, but gave full credence to what he said. He had been visited by a spirit, in the form of a young and beautiful female. The spirit had repeated its visits, and they had now become familiar. He de- scribed it as being of the most surpassing loveliness. Its dress was always the same — pure white. It was all that could be imagined of angelic beauty. We parted that morning with .sad forebodings — I to my usual avocation, my friend to brood on the com- .?!^*^«*fti^^wwfeti ! ^i I : 20 REVERIES— REVIEWS— Rfir'0LLfiCTT0>f8. munication of the spirit. That was a sad day for us both. A month only had to pass and I was to lose my dearest, my only friend. A month only and he was to pass into a world of spirits ! Alas ! the time approached. I gave up my w\olo time to him; day and night found me a constant attendant at his side. The ablest physicians were called to his assistance; but all availed notiiing— he as firmly believed he should die at the appointed hour as he believed in his present existence. I endeavored to persuade him that the hour fixed for his death would pass unnoticed, but all in vain. In fact, I believed it myself as firmly as he did, but yet was determined on trying some expedient in order to prevent it. In the course of my reading I recol- lected having seen an account of a jtudent at Jena who had received a similar communication, and was similarly affected. In that case a drug was given him to produce sleep, and he awoke two hours after the time he was to have died, perfectly recovered. I pro- posed trying this method with my friend, which the physician cordially assented to. Nothing could exceed the tranquillity with which he viewed his approaching dissolution. He was the only calm person in the neighborhood. His situation was universally deplored by his acquaintances; the poor people lamented him for his benefactions ; I sorrowed for him as my only friend. Day and night I was his constant companion. I read to him, I conversed with him, I did everything for him which friendship could ^^ REVERIE NO. II. 21 fixed vain. pro- suggest. He imparted to me the arrangement of his funeral, the disposal of his property. He directed a number of small legacies to be paid to poor people who had before been his pensioners. " And to you, H ," said he, " I will leave my books. Preserve them," he continued ; " iu them you can see and converse with all that is good and great. But to you I need not expatiate, who know so well their priceless value." And these relics from me will never part but with departing life ! It was the evening before his death ; I was sitting by his side. I had been reading that portion of Lalla Rookh where the unhappy Hindoo so exquisitely laments her withered hopes : — " 'Twas ever thus, from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; I never loved a tree or flower, But 'twas the first to fade away. I ne'er caress'd a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft blue eye ; But when it came to know me well. And love me, it was sure to die !" Lulled by the softness of the breeze, and fatigued by continued watching, I fell asleep, when I dreamed. I dreamt that I saw my friend ; but it was his pure spirit, mounted on angels' wings, and soaring towards the heavens. One led the way. That one I immediately recog- nized as the one that had warned him of his approach- ing end. He Vjeckoned me with a heavenly smile, as they entered the clouds, and I saw him no more. II 22 ltEVIiUIES-KBVIEWS-KE(»r.I,ECTiONS. .lefp'^rhi'f rt u"" '"-^ '"'^y '^-'^ke than I i„ ™y wouMst thour- n:r : .ai'tr:' •{•:"'; :'-" agam to tel! thee I am true Tn , ' "^ «ix I shall be here ZZ \n '°-'7™^ «^™i"R at regions of bliss TillTf '°n'^"'' ""^^ '° "^« = oi miss, lillthen.farewe !" "Sweet er,i,.in remain one moment h„t „ oweet spirit ! <= moment— but one moment longer" H» stepped across the room to awake ,J Z\ , -the -.hantom had fled ""^ '"''""'' ... "' ''""' >nto a calm and n easatit «l„„„ from which he never awoke a^"'« nature effected by the power of the Holy Spirit, usually and scrip turally termed conversion ; the need of this chan<.e by all unsaved sinners; God's plan of human instru- mentality m carrying on His work, by preaching the Word, by prayer, by personal intercourse with the unsaved. Let us first ascertain what is to be understood by a revival of religion. The trend of man's disposition in relation to religion is to declension. In consequence of continuous contact with things secular, the tendency of the soul IS to become (figuratively speaking) material- ^ed, absorbed by attention being given entirely to thing.s of the world. And this tendency could never be more manifest than in this present age of fh,-- Ohuroh s existence-an age of steam, of telegrapns, of telephones-a time when some men suddenly become possessed of an extraordinaiy amount of wealth and when others are in extreme poverty. I will also add, that a living Church, properly utilising those thino-s ,04. REVIVALS AND KEVIVALISTS. 25 (which are simply the discoveries of science practically applied to the ordinary operations of life), never pos- sessed such advantages in carrying on the work of God as at present. In referring thus to those materializing tendencies, and the manner in whijh Christians too frequently yield to them, it is not for a moment sup- posed that they have no degree of the fear of God left. But here we see the necessity of a revival, which must first begin in the Church of Christ, and which, in brief, we understand to be an increase of that which already has an existence in the heart. It is a renewal of the spiritual life of the soul, followed, as the effect of it, by increased activity on behalf of the unsaved. There is much tenderness of heart; there is deep con- trition on account of past neglect. When Christians become unusually earnest and active, and are con- strained to cry to God for more spiritual life and power for themselves, and for the conversion of sinners, these will not long remain unaffected thereby. Generally tho revival of Christians and the conversion of sinnera are concomitant blessings. In referring to a revival extending outside of the Church, the essential feature is that a sinner may be converted to God and saved from sin. By the same power others may be saved. Christians hail the con- version of one sinner with devout gratitude to God ; but when numbers are converted simultaneously, or rapidly following each other, and the revival thus extends far beyond the Church, and thanksgivings to God arise from many, many Christian workers in 3 '26 llEVERIKS— REVIEWS— RECOLLECTIONS. which the newly saved are ready to join with their hallelujahs— thouo-h there may be some degree oi" irregularity, and perhaps excitement, for which no calculation has been made— yet, where is the man who will stand up and say that he has authority from God to forbid, or in any way prevent, the manifestation of this ? True, this unnecessary excitement is no essen- tial part of a revival, though [i may be its outcome ; neither will it destroy the character of a genuine work of God. I am not the apologist of religious excitement, but I would like at this point to suggest one or two queries. Was it ever known in the history of the Church that any great good of this kind has been ac- complished apart from some degree of excitement and enthusiasm ? Shall we risk the destruction of the good as well as the bad, in trying to cull out the bad fi-om the good ? Rather let it be ou^s to gather in the wheat, and though there should be found some tares inter- mingled therewith, yet the Master will discern their true character, and in due time assign to them their true position. To avoid being tedious I will present the following .summary of truth.s touching this subject : 1. A revival state is the normal condition of the Church. Chri.^itians ought to be always ready to engage in revival work. They are not ! 2. This abnormal condition of the Church renders preparation necessary. 3. That this preparation, as to time and expendi- ture of effort, is just in proportion to the dearth of spirituality which prevajl.s. ii ^ REVIVALS AND REVIVALISTS. 27 4. That there are certain times and occasions which are sug<]festive of the propriety of revival efforts being successfully made. 5. That the preaching appropriate to such occasions is essentially similar among all denominations, irre- spective of creed. The writer heard a most eloquent sermon, which occupied more than an hour in delivery, in the Jesuit church in Montreal, by a member of the order of the " Sacred Heart of Jesus," interlarded here and there with sentences indicating superstitious confidence in the infallibility of the Church. If these sentences had been eliminated from it, it would have been equrJly appropriate at a Methodist camp-meeting, or at any of those services now in progress at the West End Presbyterian Church. 6. That revival services, when engaged in, should have the precedence of all others. That, if possible, concerts, lectures, social gatherings and anniversary services should for the time be postponed. 7. That great care should be taken in selecting proper persons to converse with and give directions to seekers at the penitent form or in the inquiry meeting. Very frecjuently those who have not the first (jualifi- cation — lacking, perhaps, cleanness of character, — aiid another class, a goody-goody sort of people who have much religion but very little connnon sense, are among the very foremost to press themselves into this work. 8. Finally, whatever degree of doubt or distrust Ll i^i^mHfsmMt^p^-. 28 UEVEIUES— REVIEWS— RECOLLECTIONS. may be expressed, or direct obstacles thrown in the way by any Sanballat who may be there, this will have the effect of intensifying the zeal of othe ^ who believe in the work ; and if the objector is treated right, VIZ., left alone, he can do little or no harm, save to himself. REVIVALISTS. That there is a certain class Of men, laymen as well as ministers, in whom is evolved a peculiar aptitude tor what is now termed "evangelistic service," pro- bably not one here will be disposed to doubt. No person I would think, can read the record of what 'tP^!^^ ^^^y^^^^^ other places in Scotland in lH.:{J-40, in connection with the labors of R M McCheyne, W. G Burns, ami others like-minded, but must see peculiar adaptation for the work on their part. As to its results, there was a great degree of irregularity in church work, and also, for some time the suspension of secular business. It was evidently te that the business pertaining to eternity must be settled before they could go on any further with that wnich related to time. But then this irregularity was of small importance. There was irregularity on the part of those men who brought their sick friend and l..oke up the roof of the house in order to get near the Great Healer, but a few carpenters could soon repair the roof, while none but Jesus could say to the poor paralytic, "Thy sins be forgiven thee-" or " Arise, take up thy bed. and go thy way." There aro *^^**««;**«*e»»«» REVIVALS AND REVIVALISTS. 29 1 in the this will ei ^ who treated 'm, save as well 'Ptitude B," pro- )t. No f what land in K. M. 9d, but 1 their gree of e time, dently I list be ih that ilarity ity on friend 't near I soon to the ; or, ro aro many in this city who remember the evangelistic labors of James Caughey, now more than a quarter of a century ago, and his peculiar adaptation to that work. It has stood the test of time. In the Methodist churches of this city to-day we often hear persons attribute their conversion to the instrumen- talities of those times. I confess to a strong prejudice, of many years' stand- ing, against a certain class of travelling professional revivalists who appear now and then, without any authority, and generally without any character. I am thankful to say that there is, at present, but little occasion to be deceived by men of that class. There are men whose antecedents are well known, and whose praise, in consequence of their devotion and success, is in all the churches, and whose presence and labors anywhere will be a benediction. Dwight L. Moody, acknowledged by the Presbyterian Church; Dr. E. Judson, endorsed by the Baptist persuasion ; Sam P. Jones, receiving his appointment from an annual Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church South, aro all amenable to the courts of the Church to which they belong. In connection with several of the Methodist Conferences of this Dominion a certain class of ministers are left without any pastoral charge, and receive their appointment as Conference evan- gelists ; they are thus at liberty to assist any pastor who may desire their aid. I cannot speak with cer- tainty as to other Churches ; I think, however, 1 have observed in some reports of proceedings of the Pres- n ' 30 REVERIES — REVIEWS — RECOLLECTIONS. byterian Church a similar appointment. The fact, however, that an evangelist is at present engaged in one of the Presbyterian churches of the city, I take as evidence that there is no law against it, and, further- more, I have been told you could discern but little if any difference between the doctrines there preached, and the method of conducting the after-meeting, and what you would see and hear at an ordinary Meth- odist revival-meeting. I think, also, that whatever evangelistic work may be done, the pastor of the church should have the entire control of the services, and, knowing that he is responsible, should feel at liberty at any time he may deem necessary to " reprove, rebuke, exhort," as the case may be. A word as to methods. Looking at the history of God's ancient people, we shall see that H. directed them to special means in order to maintaii religion among them. On those occasions they abandoned their homes, suspended secular business, great excite- ment prevailed among them. Many turned from idolatry and became true worshippers of the living Ood. These were periodical occasions of great joy. Under the present dispensation, 1 do not know that Ood has directed us to any particular system of means —additional to Gospel preaching— to which adherence is required. Our present forms of public worship have been arrived at by degrees, and some things which we now deem important, if not absolutely essiiuthi\—8ingi)i(j God's praise, for Insta'nGe—when first introduced were as repugnant to our fathers as HKVIVALS AND llEVIVArJSTS. ,^1 the introduction of any innovation could now be to us. I think that an evangelist who is invited to any of our churches should have great latitude given to him, and he will generally have the good sense not to abuse that latitude. Personally, I would not like to be bound to any particular method. God honors all methods, and sometimes He honors the most the man without a method. I would gladly receive a sugges- tion from any source, and adopt any method, new or old, if it were better calculated to attain the end. Before concluding, I cannot refrain from rof erring to those revivalists who have recently been, and some who are still, in our city. I refer to Sam P. Jones and his coadjutor, Sam Sujall, Mr. Schiverea and Dr. Judson. Dr. Judson I heard once. His address was on the doctrine of " Repentance "—a pretty thorough exposition of the subject. And, tr.king the whole ser- vice into account — singing, prayers, sermon, and after- meeting— I do not know that you would find any difference between that and a service in Elm Street Church under Dr. Potts, or one in the Metropolitan under the direction of Mr. StaflTord. Schiverea I have not heard, but have no doubt whatever that. he is a faithful and successful laborer in the blessed Master's vineyard. As to Sam P. Jones, a good deal of advt-rse criticism has been indulged. Now, it is an easy thing to criticize or find flaws in such a man; he is like no other man we have had in this city. I ai.i not his apologist. J do not think any of the brethren named need an apologist. I will, however, ask this qucvsfion ; HKVEHIES— IJEVIEWS— RKCOLLECTIONS. Is there a minister in this city, or do you know of any one elsewhere, who, by his mt thod of preaching the Gospel of Jesus, can bring together, day by day and week after week, from 4,000 to G,000 people daily ?— and in connection with whose services, in addition to all expenses, the Managing Committee have more than S800 for distribution among the public charities of our city ? If there arc such, I presume it will now be in order to rise and speak. TIMES OF REFRESHING. 33 V of any ling the Jay and laily ?- ition to )re than s of our w be in TIMES OF REFRESHIXG. "Times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord."— Acts 3: 19. I The following appeal was prepared and published as a tract, and distributed among the pew-holders during special services, I have reason to lielieve that in more places than one it was instrumental in doing good work for the Lord. I preserve it here, with the hope that some one may read and be benefited thereby. ] ^ELOVED BRETHREN :—" Times of Refresh- ,^^ ING " ! In what does this consist ? That there are times in his life, every Christian knows, when the tone of his piety is elevated above the ordi- nary standard. Prayer and praise become the heart's delioht. Peace flows as a river. Communion with God, both private and public, is ardently sought and enjoyed. The allurements of the world lose their power. Light— pure, constant, tran(|uillizing — is shed on the soul. To promote the great work of salvation and thereby glorify God becomes easy and delightful. "Times of Refreshinr/" consist of such feelings per- vading numbers of Christians, who, being thus aroused, the emotion will not long be confined within the Church. Admitting that this elevated tone of piety is not ordinary, ought it — might it not always be thus ? Should not Christians always be prepared to engage in the work of revival ? Is it so with vou ? Mi you I any 34 REVEUIES— REVIEWS— REr-OLLECTIONS. of you liaVe expressed earnest desires for the revival of the work of God. Bear with me while I suggest some thoughts for self-examination. You would'not willingly stand in the way, and thus take the re- sponsibility of preventing God's work ? Then I am sure you will bear with the following suggestions :— 1. Is your own heart rigkt i Are there any reign- ing idols there ? Are unhallowed passions indulged ? Do you love God with all your heart, and each other with a pure heart fervently ? If in the indulgence of unhallowed feeling you have injured a brother, have you made such an acknowledgment as our blessed Redeemer requires? Is not the real difficulty an uivw'llingness to humble yourself before God, and in the presence of each other ? Be entreated—" do not regard iniquity in your heart." Brother, see to it that your heart is right. Look not at any lack of service, or inconsistency, on the part of others, but at your own accountability. Cast out every idol. Remove every hindrance. 2. Do you lack holy activity? Activity is a uni- versal law of God's universe, especially in relation to mind. The powers of the soul are designed for cease- less activity. No spiritual health or mental vigor will be enjoyed without it. The duties of your Chris- tian life, the prosperity of the Church, the exten- sion of Christ's kingdom and your advancement in personal piety, all demand of you activity. Would you be holy— would you see sinners saved ? " Be in-.tant in season and out of season " — he active. TIMES OF REFRESHING. 35 Heaven itself is a scene of holy activity. Hell is a place of malignant activity. You are now in a world of varied and incessant activity. Shall the Church be apathetic ? Shall Christians be at ease in Zion ? "Awake thou that sleepest." Souls are perishing around you. Snatch these brands from the burnintr. Lead them to Jesus, and you " shall hide a multitude of sins." If the salvation of souls is desirable — if the commands of God are binding — then " work while it is called day." 3. Again, is there any want of fervid zeal ? If the concerns of personal religion are so great and lofty, then our most intense devotedness to God and most fervid zeal are required. You are to be "fervent in Spirit." Look at the interests of Christ's cause. Can they be effectually promoted without this zeal ? Do you fear the cry of " fanatic," or " enthusiast " ? Look at the history of nations. All that is great and glow- ing and good has been produced as the result of enthusiastic attachment to a cause espoused. Zeal has sustained in spheres of suffering and trial. Zeal has inspired the hearts of martyrs, confessors, reformers and missionaries. Zeal inspired the Son of God in doing His Father's will. Christians! shrink not if need be from the accusation of enthusiasm ; inasmuch as the Book of God tells you, " it is gOod to be zealously affected always in a good thing." Brethren, still I crave your forbearance. Special efforts are being made for the salvation of souls and diiiQsion Oi the spirit Oi nolincss. We want 3'our co- H * 36 REVEIIIES— REVIEWS— llECOLLECTIONS. operation. We would not willingly dispense with the active faith, the fervid zeal, the earnest prayei-s of one. As you value your spiritual welfare, the salvation of your families, and the prosperity of the Church, do rot he a hindrance, give us your countenance. Incur not the curse of Meroz. Remove, as far as is in your power, every obstacle, in yourself, your business transactions, your associations in the world, the church, your household, and " come up to the help of the Lord against the mighty." Beloved Friends, Members of the Congregation AND Pew-Holders :— Allow one, who has learned to love your souls as the purchase of the Saviour, to address you thus. You need not perish. We claim you for Christ. Special services are now in progress and by ^.he grace of God a free, full and present salva- tion is offered to every soul. What a glorious truth ! You may be saved ! will you not embrace the oppor- tunity and step into the pool while the waters are troubled? You, above every other, who have been accustomed to meet with us every Sabbath, who believe (in theory) the Gospel as you hear it preached here, are the class of persons whom we anxiously desire to benefit. Shall these efforts be in vain ? God forbid ! " Come with us and we will do you good 1 " Again, we claim you for Christ. Be assured of this, prayer is ascending for you— how earnest and faithful, none but God can tell. Oh ! may you be willing and obedient in this the day of His power. "n«!* GOD IN THP: history of METHODISM. 37 J GOD IN THE HISTORY OF METHODISM. CHAPTKR I. EVERAL years ago a very excellei.t work was published, entitled " The Hand of God in His- tory," by Hollis Read, M.A. In that work the author skilfully traces the hand of Providence in the history of the world and the Church of God. Many wonder- ful illustrations are sought out, and through that book have found a permanent record when otherwise they would have been entirely unknown. But there is one very remarkable omission. The author is unwilling to allow that that hand is at all visible in the history of John Wesley and his coadjutors. He takes no cognizance-of the great revival of the last century, and ignores the very existence of those God-honored men whose names have filled the world ! As well might the millions of souls that have been converted by this instrumentality have still been in nature's darkness, as far as affording any illustration of the Divine hand worthy the attention of the author of that book. If my memory serves me right, there is not one single reference to the Methodist Church ; unless that may be regarded as one, where the conversion and sub- sequent call to the ministry of a Choctav^^ Indian boy fl 38 REVERIES — REVIEWS — RECOLLECTIONS. are spoken of. If the Indian boy was engaged, and so honorably sustained by God, in the Methodist ministry, our author is careful not to notice the fact. • With the literary character of the work, and the manner in which the author has carried out his design, I find no fault; doubtless he had his own ends to accomplish, but nevertheless his book will be exten- sively useful. I know not that he bestows undeserved praise upon any one; but when an author professes that the object of his work is an " historical illustra- tion of the hand of God, as displayed in the extension and estabUshment of Christianity;" (p. 13), and when he commences with the origin of that religion, refer- ring also to events of the most recent date — none of them unworthy of such a reference— is he not bound, the more correctly to " compass his end," to devote one chapter, at least, in his volume to a review of one of the most extensive revivals since the apostolic age ? And surely we may ask, in addition to the many well- written volumes in his list of references, and'the names of many zealous Christian missionaries who have gone with their lives in their hands while preaching "among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ," could not one Methodist author have been found on whose verity he could rely, or the name of one Methodist (Christian) missionary in who.se call to success and preservation in the work is evident the "hand of God?". I am not going to attempt at this day to supply this lack of service on the part of the Rev. Hollis Read GOD IN THE HISTOhY OF METHODISM. 39 toward the Church of my choice ; but the more I study the polity and doctrines of the Church of Christ, as represented by Methodism, the more thoroughly am I convinced that Methodism is of God; and that the providence of God is equiilly as obvious in the history of Methodism, as in any other part of visible Chris- tianity, requires but little discernment to perceive. I ardently desire, therefore, to contribute my share, be it ever so small, tov^rard pointinoj out the finger of God, guiding, controlling, preserving, comforting those whom He has delighted to especially honor among the ser- vants of Methodism— ^/ie servants of the Lord Hiniself. Another reason which may be assigned, why I thus have undertaken to trace the workmanship of the Divine hand, as herein seen is, that I claim, and hope without being subjected to the charge of egotism, to be a lover of "all the giants" of the Methodist family, whether found in the original branch, rejoicing to number among its own the Bensons, the Clarkes,the Watsons, the Bunt- ings, Newtons, Jacksons— who have passed away to their reward—or those who still live to receive honor from God, and from that people who have been blessed through their ministrations ; or that still more exten- sive branch of the same family, in connection with whom I find tiie names of Asbury, Fisk, Olin, and a host of others, who are now in their leather's kingdo.n. Do we require proof that Methodism is of God, or that God is still the favorer of Methodism ? Of the first we have abundant proof among the millions of Methodists who have died during the last century ; and f t 40 UKVEUIKS — KEVIEWS — KECOLLECTlONS. without indulgino" the improbable supposition that every one of these is saved, yet, without fear of con- tradiction, it may be asserted that a 'Mamdred and forty and four thousand," and how numy more 1 cainiot tell, have connuenced their eternal sonj^, " unto lliiu that loved um," for the blessinors to which they were first directed through the means of Methodism. And in proof of the second— that " this God is our God still" — we need but refer to the encourairin«- and <,dt)rious fact, that in connection with the leading branches of our great Methodist family there are more than five millions of living Church members, many of wlioMi can rejoice in a reconciled (lod, through faith in the blood of atonement; ;^nd also some ten millions more, regular attendants on its ministry. And in addition to these, there a.-e hundreds of thousands of others who have been directed to the Father of Mercies by the same means, but who have not been associated with us in Church fellowship. And in " that day " how many among these will come to "the satisfaction of the Redeemer — the travail of His soul," not only from the more refinetl society of Hritain and America, but from among tlie once be- sotted Hottentots of Africa, the cannibals of Fiji, the philosopliic barbarians of India, the aborigines of our Western World, ami natiims yet unborn, to the eleva- tion of whose comlition in life, and preparation for bliss hereaftei', our common Methodist Christianity is ecjually adapted. Be this my apology then— if apology bo needed, for (JOI) IN THK mSTOUY OK MKTKODISM. 41 cndeavorinf:^ to trace and point out the hand of God in a few of the more prominent events in the Idstory of our beh)ved Zion— that I love Methodism, that the men of God whom I was taught to revere in my infancy liave, in my " riper years," when better capable of form- injj^ opinions for myself as to their character, ever com- manded my esteem and respect — that I conscientiously regard it as superior to any other form of visible Christianity — that what I owe to Christianity is tluou«,di Methodistic influence ; and therefore, whatever I can do toward the spread of Christianity — until there is proof that God has ceased to work by it, must be through the same visible form. I care not for the opprobrium which might possibly be thrown upon me by croakers, or from any other source ; neither do I court the applause nor pander to the opinions or power of others, as those would probably affirm, in common with tens of thousands more, I owe a debt ; aye, a debt which all the gold of earth would fail to cancel. One thing, by God's grace, I can do towards its discharge, and that is, never betray the trust — however insignifi- cant it be — reposed in me by Methodism. If the idea which seems to be involved in a sentence, found in the work on " Wesley and Methodism," pub- lished by Isaac Taylor, Ks(|., bt a correct one, the wisdom of man would supersede the providence of God — a doc- trine doubtless utterly at variance with, and n^pugnant to, the b^^st feelings of his soul. If the founder of Methodism had been possessed of that degree of skill which .j=jii\i\ bav«» enitblyd him Uj provide for awery rrr 42 REVERIES — REVIEWS — RECOLLECTIONS, r contingency before it arose ; that is, had the wisdom of God been centred in the mind of John Wesley, then our task would have been unnecessary. Methodism would not have been, as it is, the child of providence. Mr. Taylor, in the paragraph referred to, evidently supposes that in order to sustain himself in a becoming manner, Mr. Wesley should have " possessed that sort of sagacity, which, in love to his memory, he would not attribute to him," to see down the tide of time, and prepare for the "inevitable consequence of the vast machinery he had set in motion " (p. 245) — no room for providence here. Tims while the author of the "IN citural History of Enthusiasm " speaks of the blindness of those who will not or cannot see the hand of God in raising up the "Methodistic company," he evidently forestalls the doctrine in the sentence (quoted above. If " history is but the exponent of providence," and moreover, if in every instance, as some assert — and truly too, when the peculiar exigencies of the Church, where, if at all, we find His people, in every age of the world, seem to refjuire it, God has interposed in their behalf; then has the hand of God been, and still is, tiie same hane the nearest representative in modern times. This is eciually true of the doctrines taught, as well tvs of those God-chosen messengers, the teachers of thoso m' 72 REVERIES— REVIEWS— llECOLLECTlOxXS. doctrines. Who but one possessing the wisdom of God would have seen in those rude materials— the fishermen of Galilee— that instrumentality so appro- priate to His purpose— the building and consolidating a Church against which the gates of hell should not prevail ? The very rudeness of the material proves that the " excellency of the power is of God and not of man." Some are fishermen, one is a tent-maker, and another a tax-gatherer. Can we, think you, trace' any analogy between those ministers— eminent, yea, in- spired divines, as all will readily admit they were— together with the effects produced, and the instru- mentality chosen of God to build up and consolidate a portion of His Church in this latter time, as seen in the history of Methodism ? The particular point to which I would refer at pre- sent is the difference in the character and condition of that agrMicy chosen of God to accomplish His purposes m His Church, and the agency chosen by men to ac- complish their purposes in the world. What is the character of that man who is regarded as the most skilful diplonuitist, or wisest politician ? the most successful general ? or the man who amasses the largest amount of the world's wealth ? As a politicia!!, perhaps Talleyrand was one of the greatest men of his own or any other age, if to be great is to accomplish the end a man may have in view, by any means. No other man was able to cope with him. Hut he has left a character stamped with mfamy. One of his maxims was— and his practice uinasses tne onJ> course to arrive at that s'ate Rnf i. u r , tJeG „ of holincf „ave chreT /^ aJ^i^rr tahty o bnng about l,i.s purpose. ? We .shall e An„ her celebrate., politician, Sir Robert Walpole wh.le Prenner of England, estimate,! ,„oral prindl' not .nore h,.hly among tho.se with whom he had to do, when he said. •• Every man has his owlr ie "And m how many thousand., of instances ha.s' t le mtto been ver.Hed since ? though not in every pla ' whe e cannot but toel ind.gnant when I hear a t'loatin-. w.ne^b.bb mg, licentious politician prate abo'.t r H ion '"Ul the C;hurch of Christ, and then refer to a firT .■ate,.o;^ fellow," because he has attaS he tI " loyrand,c order, and can tell falsehood after fal hood «nd protest with as n.uch a.ssurance an,, solcnt ty a tint . Their Rock is not our Rock, even our -enues themselves being .i,„,ges " (Deut.xxxii^") What ,s the character of those „,en the n.ention of whose names .,„. cau.se,, a nation'.s heart t„ Ihril, witt 74 11EVEK1E8 — REVIEWS — RECOLLECTIONS. joy ? upon whose brow a nation's laurels have been placed by the admiring million ? and by whose memo- rials ambitious youths are lured onward to seek a hero's laurels or a hero's grave :* 1 have followed, in imagination, many of the chieftains of the earth, and none with livelier interest than those who still defend " the flag that's braved a thousand years," till every nerve has trembled w^ith a strange delight ; but my soul is humbled before the God of Britain when I trace the character and career of many whose services and worth entitle them to wear ni}^ country's wreath of fame. And who rvill say that her sons have not been less cruel, while engaged in what the world calls honorable warfare, than those of other lands ? 1 desire not to speak of what may be known of their private life or character, but their track from nation to nation while leading on victorious armies has been slippery with human gore, and tingling in a nation's ears may still be heard the wail of souls — lod — whose everlasting doom is fixed. Think you, is the mission of Methodism of less im- portance to the world than that of an Alexander, a Cresar, a Napoleon, or a Wellington ? I trow not ! Then, permit me to ask, will the (Jod of Methodism, who cut short the career of him whose aim, doubtless, was universal empire, by the agency of« Britain's Wellington, be less careful to preserve it in vigorous exercise, while thousandy of immortal souls yearly by lier agency are brougltt to a saving knowledge of the Crucified ^ But let a.^ look more closely at the in- strumentality thus honored of Uod. ?*»*■ GOD IN THE HISTORY OF METHODISM. 75 It has been asserf.Pf] " T>io+ ,..u i la^^i^iita, ihat when Ivaven sends its own Cosen ™.„ to bring about ne«led refonnaUon . tl,e co»t ot a n.o,„euta,y anu.chy. it does not give any .sucl, co>nu„s«ion as this to those who by teutpl are anarch.sts The anarchist is not to be tfusteJS Zt oni ""■■'' '"■■" •" --^--ledges no rule bu hat oUns own capricious a.rogance, it is not he who wUl ormg home fruit for the genen.l good." 'This is -...neu ly true of the instrumentality by which the l-nncplesof Wesleyan .dethodisn. ha' ,. be„„ ca„ S out. as ,ts history abundantly proves. I„ „„ insZ lias any one "who by temper" was an "anarchist" eontuiued long in this " good work," " His own cap i- cous arrogance has never allowed hin. to " bring home h.uch tru,t for the general good." But if this te t ue .especfng the mstruu.ontality in general, with low nmeh stronger evidence of its truth may it beaffir 3 ot the venerable founder of Methodism, an grandest developments of Christianity innin«Ts to very remarkable and strikinir issues," said : " Hy a plain, forcible and faithful exhibition of that truth which Christ orave to His apostles, to n)en of every state of information and of no information, moral and immoral, civilized and brutal, Methodism has souirht to reproduce the moral transformations of apostolic times; and it has succeeded. Go into its «'ordiFjate to those alreafly named. (JOD IN THK HISTOKY OF MEPHOpiSM. 89 There was one venerable minister who passed to his reward but a few years ago, who was called into the iiiinistry by the founder of Methodism. I shall l)e indulged while I mention the name of John Hickling, who, though "in age and feebleness extreme," being over ninety years old, took part in the proceedings of the British Conference. God preserved him to bear his testimony— which he did not fail to do— to the identity of principle in the Methodism of John Wesley and the Methodism of the present. May we who fol- low tread in the footsteps and emulate the zeal of those who have gone before. CHAPTKR VIII. GOD IN METHODIST UNION. Referring to the hand of God in Methodism, I could not pass without notice recent events in our own Dominion. It may be considered, probably, that those events are not sufficiently developed to trace, as clearly as may be done hereafter, the guiding hand of Providence. This I as firmly believe as any one else can. There are, however, certain facts I will very briefly state, and which I think the most scep- tical must acknowledge God has had somethinf' to do with. In doing this T shall not go beyond the period of my own recollection, nor travel outside the circle of my own knowledge. Fifty years ago there were at lea.^t six or eight difler- 7 90 KEVEllIES — REVIEWS— llECULLECTIONS. ent branches of Methodism in this Dominion. Feeble Churches were raised in opposition to each other, and in not a few cases were apparently languishing and ready to die. But yet they continued to live, and, as we may hope, each accomplished some good in certain spheres which the other bodies would not have reached. Some of those bodies maintained an active, aggressive warfare on the field of the enemy. Periodi- cally, wonderful waves of revival passed over the country, and many souls were saved. Occasionally, Churches in the same community mutually agreed to help each other, and often were driven farther apart when they came to divide the spoils. As a consequence of this divided state, many Church interests were but scantily sustained. The interests of higher education, the missionary work, and the ministry in general in several of those branches, were but feebly supported. Union was sometimes talked about. One of the first accomplished was that of the English and Canadian Methodist Conferences, in 1833. Ihat union was dis- solved seven years after, followed by seven more years of misunderstandings and heart-burnings, and again entered upon, everyone believed, on a firmer basis, in 1847. Without trying to bridge over the intervening years, I will come at once to the first General Con- ference, which met in Belleville in the year i883. To my min.d that convocation presented one of the most impressive and grandest scenes over which the angels GOD IN THE HISTORY- OF METHODISM. 91 of God have ever rejoiced. No one man can ever tell of the anxieties, the prayers and faith, the labors, and the hopes and fears, which had brought Methodism to this point. Here were several hundreds, ministers and laymen in equal numbers, none of them "mere beardless philosophers," who were gathered from New- foundland, on the Atlantic, to Vancouver, on the Pacific, having but one object before them, viz., to consider the subject of union of the different branches of Methodism, all of which were offshoots from the same root. Take a glance at them. Thev are of various nationalities. They are of different degrees of culture. Among the laymen there are judges and barristers, which is sufficient proof of their erudition. There are also educationists and legislators, as well as physicians, merchants, and agriculturists. The great majority of ministers had spent from twenty-five to forty or more years jn the Master's work, and were not likely to be carried away by sentiment alone. Further, their training and habits of life and thought were different. Their political opinions were differe°nt. Their occupations were different. Some had become wealthy by their own industry ; others, perchance, were still struggling with poverty. But on this one point, from the first, there was manifest unity— tliey were all true v/orshippers of the same God,an.l lovers of the same Jesus, as well as the Church whose name they bore. Marvellous was it to look upon those men, and listen to their earnest prayers, and the same hearty songs of prai.se whjcli all had learned to sing alike, thou^'h 02 REVEllIES— REVIEWS — RECOLLECTIONS. many had never met before 1 Under these circum- stances it was no wonder that the anticipated union was happily consummated ; and now there is but one Methodist Church throughout this wide Dominion, from ocean to ocean ! Is there a providence in this ? or have w^e still to wait to find the hand of God therein. True, some prophets of evil prophesied nothing but disaster. However, during the first year of the union, God gave the seal, by not only preserving it intact, but also adding to the Church twenty thousand souls, and wonderfully increasing the missionary income. A few sentences relating to the College Federation scheme and the Endowment Fund of Victoria College will conclude this paper. That this is a. most essen- tial matter few, if any, true lovers of Methodism will deny. In these days of intellectual culture there are ladies' colleges, musical conservatories, etc., and certain- ly more important must be a well-equipped institution for the training of our sons, where, with secular train- ing, they may be taught as well to love the Church of their fathers. I hope to live to see the turrets of Victoria University towering as gracefully as those of any other in the Queen's Park of our beautiful city of Toronto, and boys of my own faithful and honored students in her halls, under the direction of the revered and venerable Principal, Nelles, who has already done so much for the young men of Ontario. INSPIRATION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. 93 INSPIRATION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT THE SECRET OF POWER. )OWER belongeth unto God/' says David (Psalm Ixii : 11), Every manifestation of power, whether physical, intellectual, or moral, will call forth the attention of thoughtful observers ; and in propor- tion as our observings lead us to the true source of power, shall we be filled with wonder and admiration. We more admire intellectual than we do physical power ; but moral power— the power of goodness, the intluence of love, perhaps, we may call it — far tran- scends any other examples. Plato, the old Grecian philosopher, is credited with the statement, "That the sublimest spectacle in the universe is that of a virtuous man invincibly struggling against over- whelming evils." Good for the heathen ! But to us who believe in the doctrine of immortality, and who see in that struggle and victory results which will never end, that spectacle presents a far sublimer scene! Still, looking at character, what is there in all this universe comparable in power to the moral beauty displayed in the character of Jesus? Men talk disbelievingly of His doctrines, and try to ex- plain away the reality of His miracles, but acknow- IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. J y .n%^ .^^ < ^ £?< :A (A 1.0 I.I 1.25 1^ 112.2 1^ 1.4 M 1.6 ^ V^ ^;. ^^ t'# f>^ % > s^ •^ <'>'V# /; # i? C/^ Photographic Sciences Cor{X)rcition 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WeBSTIR.N.Y I4SI0 (716) 872-4S03 ' o'^ '^ !-|-wi^ Hi 94 REVERIES — REVIEWS — RECOLLECTIONS. ledge, with words expressive of adoring wonder, the divine power of His character. But we speak of the secret of power. Is there> however, any secret among godly people in the posses- sion of this power ? I know of none which is not equally within the reach of all. That there are times in a minister's life — in the life of every Christian worker — when they have wonderful power over their fellow-men ; as, also, when that power has been lack- ing, — are matters of consciousness to all and of obser- vation to all. But the cause of this is not always as obvious. It may be better understood by the speaker himself. The subject upon which he speaks, the manner of dealing with it, the state of mind, the position and surroundings, the atmosphere, the health, the personal presence, the look, the age, and especially the temperament, of the individual speaker, — all will have very much to do with the results of any public address. The inspiration referred to in our title comes not always in spite of circumstances adverse to His in- fluence ; but the inspiring Spirit will doubtless use all legitimate circumstances favorable to the efficient display of His power. The love of the Spirit, seldom referred to in public addresses, will never fail to prompt Him to coine to the rescue, and, other things being equal, constrain Him to use those circumstances for the good of man and the glory of the Master. It is well understood that there are times when com- munities, and even nations, seem to be charged with T^ INSPIRATIOX OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. Do sympathy for or prejudice against a sentiment, an act, or an individual. The name of such a one becomes a synonym of power, and the presence of such a one in the community is the centre of a grand rallying point. Then their utterances of necessity become utterances of power ! But the power we have to discuss at present is not of this nature, though it will necessarily have to do with the same favoring or opposing infiuence RELIGION. Ill about the real value of scientific investigation, as well as the blasphemous pretensions, the prodigious hypo- crisies, the intolerance and persecuting ppirit of the Romish Church, it is yet impossible to believe with him that Roman Catholicism is the purest type of true religion at present on earth. The Divine Founder of Christianity forbids persecution for opinions that differ, endows every man with the right of private judgment, and holds him responsible for both faith and practice. Dr. Draper combats these views as em- bodiments of religion and as opposed to the investi- gations of science. It' Romanism is, as assumed by him, the representative of true religion, and all the facts of history attributed to it are part and parcel of religion as taught by Jesus, we have not another word to say. But surely every Christian student of history will a*t once utterly and indignantly repudiate any such statement. There may have been war for ages l)etween science and the spirit that would not tolerate investigation, fostered by the Church of Rome. This book is a " History of the Conflict between Religion and Science." The very title is a misnomer. There is no conflict here; nor can there be, inasmuch as many of the most devout religionists have been the most enthusiastic scientists. I need but mention in this connection the names of Newton, Herschel, Karaday, Brewster, Agassiz, and a host of others if required. It is of little importance to determine whether the birth-place of modern science is in I'^urope or in Africa. I i 112 rn-:VEIirKS~HEVIEWS— HECOLLFXTIOXS. *, ^'^^IS^'5 '^t Dr. Draper is probably correct in stating it to be in tlie famous Alexandrian Museum, which was destroyed in a great measure by paganized Christians, and the work of destruction thus begun, completed by fanatical and embittered Moslems. Nor will it retard our efforts in the pursuit of knowledge to believe with the author that the honor of reviving the true scientific method of research, by induction, belongs to Leonardo D.a Vinci, and not to Lord Bacon. It is much more val- uable to know that religion fosters and encourages this spirit of investigation, ever has done, and ever must do the same. This conflict is found to exist now, as formerly, in that system which Dr. Draper tells us " is the most widely-diffused and the most powerfully- organized of all modern societies ; and is far more a political than a religious combination." Much impor- tant and valuable information, and many hi'storic facts, well put, are found in this book ; but great caution is necessary in separating the precious from the vile. Several misrepresentations will strike the reader of this volume, which I cannot refer to at present more than to mention. Dr. Draper assumes there exists a deep and wide- spread divergence in popular feeling in opposition to religious faith. Where is it ? True religion has more power, attracts more attention in the world, at present than at any preceding perir^d of history. Christianity has everything to gain from science, nothing to lose. i,.i Tf SCIENCE AND RELIOION. 11.*^ Christianity being still an aggressive movement, is not the statement of our author a misrepresentation ? Is It not slanderous to say that revelation is tolerant ot moral divergency, but not so of the facts of natural science ? Dr. Draper's scepticism leaks out in his laudations ot btoical or necessitarian views. Is not the philosophy of Paul relating to a future state at least equal to indeed infinitely preferable to, that of Zeno ? I believe in Providence, not in fatalism. Science is credited with all human progress. Is this its due ? Does not all ancient and modern history establish the fact that where revelation is absent science is also unknown ? 114 nEVEUlES — REV fEWS — RECOLLECTrONS. THE BACKSLIDER'S DEATH-BED. ORE than forty years have now elapsed since the following circumstances occurred, but such was the impression produced on my mind there- by, tliat the scene seems to be as vividly presented before me to-day as when it first took place. It was in the year 184- the second of my ministry, that I was appointed to the small but rising town of . Connected with it as a mission was a larofe tract of surrounding country. The first two or three Sab- bath evenings I observed a person coming into the church and seating himself near the door, retiring as speedily as possible after the service, a!j>parently in order to avoid contact with any of the congregation. His person was attenuated ; his countenance pale and haggard, though presenting marks of intelligence ; his whole frame was tremulous ; his step was infirm, though not with age, and he evidently needed the support of the cane upon which he leaned. Disease of some kind was manifestly preying upon his system. I occasionally saw him walking slowly, and always alone, with averted eyes, along ohe streets ; and also noticed his abode as one of the poorest and most un- inviting in the place. After a few Sabbath evenings THE backslider's DEATH-BED. 115 I missed him from his usual place. Incidentally I heard Mr. , the person I had observed in the church, was in poor health ; in fact, it was expected he would not live many weeks or months at most, and that he had expressed a wish that I would call and see him. During my ministerial life hitherto I had always made it my first business to visit the sick of the Church or the congregation, or any other, if such a desire was expressed. In this case I hesitated. The reason why I hesitated will be found in the following cicumstances, which were evolved in answer to my inqwries respecting him. I was also told that, from the nature of the disease, be was likely to lino-er probably for several months. I felt desirous-behio- then but young in the ministry-of having time for consultation with those who, as I learned, knew his history from his childhood, as to the best mode of doing him any good. Mr. was of respectable parentage in the north of Ireland, had the advantage of religious training, and was .in early youth converted to God. He wis pious and devoted, and gave promise of usefulness in the Church. He was married— with perfect satisfac- tion to both families— to a young woman in every respect his equal, and whose efforts were to help him on in the right way both '« for this life and that which IS to come. ' He became successively an exhorter and a class-leader, and for several years lived a happy and a useful life. Wherever he went he met with a 1 1 G HEY KRIES— REVIEWS— RECOLT.ECTIONS. cordial greeting. Few persons were more acceptable at any of the appointments on the circuit than he was; and my informant also stated that he became the God-honored messenger of salvation to many souls; and some in h:s native land, and others who are now in Canada, remember, with gratitude to God, the earnest zeal and faithful entreaties which were instrumental in drawing them to Christ. But, alas! in an evil hour the demon entered his soul. To all who knew the parties concerned, the most unexpected and unaccountable circumstances took place. Sud- denly his attendance to religious duties ceased, and the kind husband and affectionate father became»dis- satisfied with and inattentive to the pious, excellent wife of his youthful days, and the sweet children whom God had given them to watch over. A few unhappy weeks passed by, and the tears and prayers of wife and entreaties of other friends were unavail- ing to bring him back to moral consciousness. Event- uaHy he left the neigborhood which had been the scene of much satisfaction and happiness for several years, and took with him the wife of another, who heartlessly left her own family and home to become the unlawful and scorned companion with whom, under other circumstances, there could have been no thoughts or feelings in common. To him life here- after—in view of life's great object — was to be a blank ; and though now in the full vigor of his man- hood, days of happiness and usefulness had tied, never to be recalled again. They embarked for America ; « THE backslider's DEATH-BED. 117 and at the time I found him with the companion of his guilt and two children, they had Itved in adultery for six or seven years. Those years, however, as I learned, had been spent under one huge dark cloud. He was the victim of disease ; seldom free from in- tense pain ; and, what was still worse, on some occa- sions almost mpddening remorse ; and the woman was like one sent to "torment him before the time." Their existence was in the most squalid poverty and all its attendant wretchedness. In the above circumstances will be found the cause of my hesitation after he expressed the wish to be visited. Though I determined to do so .at some time, then T saw scarcely any ground for the faintest hope of doinir him any ffood. I felt that before I could enter upon any conversation with him relative to his soul's salvation, I must of necessity first ascertain his willing- ness to change his course of life, and j)lace himself on promised ground. From all I could learn, I was afraid there was little or no disposition to do so ; that he was in fact trying to persuade himself, under the blinding influence of Satan, that it was possible for him to con- tinue his present life, and also enjoy religion and be prepared for heaven. In the course of a short time I was, however, unhesi- tatingly led to his habitation. I had retired to rest near two o'clock in the morning, but shortly after was aroused by a sharp rapping at my bedroom window. In reply to my question, " What is wanted ? " I received the answer, " Mr. is very bad, and wishes you to f--' 118 REVERIES — REVIEWS — RECOLLECTIONS. go and see him at once ; he thinks he cannot live many hours longer." -J rose and dressed myself immediately, and, before leaving my room, offered a short but anxious prayer that God would aid and direct me in my con- templated interview with the dying man. During the few minutes which intervened before I came to his presence, on my way there, a confused and strange hopelessness seemed to pervade my mind. A little way from the dwelling I met a person who told me he thought " Mr. would soon be gone," and that he was leaving the house because he could not bear to remain any longer. As I oame near, I heard his cries of agony, and on entering the doorway a scene of hor- ror presented itself. The dying man was forsaken by every one (for several had been there, as I learned, during the early part of tlie night) but the equally guilty partner of his few last years. All the house contained could not have been valued' at five dollars. The two poor children were crouched in dirt and rags, weeping and shivering. The woman, whom I now s^w for the first time, was as repulsive an object as almost any of her sex could bp The poor man was suffering the most excruciating pain of body but this, I was soon persuaded, was llllic compared to the agony of mind he was then enduring. He was only p'Lrtially undressed, and his bed was a wretched palleo of straw. On this he was throwing himself from side to side, and ceaselessly uttering cries of despair. He literally "roared for the disquietude of his soul." He gave utterance to his feelings in sentences varied as follows : li^ THE backslider's DEATH-BED. 119 " O, my God ! I shall be dead in a few hours, and where will my poor soul be ? " " O, my God ! I shall soon be m ^ "June 4th, .8 — . "Rev. Timothy Oldboy, D.D. "Dear Sir,— I Imve the honor to inform you that our University has conferred upon you the degree of D.D. at the recent convocation. Herewith also you will receive the diploma, duly signed. I trust, dear sir, you may long live to enjoy this honor, and become increasingly useful to an appreciative people. "Allow me also to Cf.ngratulate you on the profound impres- sion produced by your sermon preached in our University Church. The beauty of its composition, the quotations from the original Greek, the proofs and illustrations from Juvenal and Horace so appropriate and correctly enunciated fronj the author 3 own Latin, all combine to show your erudition, and prove t ^ correctness of the remark made l)y a gentleman at the convocation, that it was rather an honor to the University to con- fer a degree on you than honi>ring you thereby. " Hoping we may have a visit from you at no very distant day, "1 am. Dear Sir, ''' Very truly yours, "H. Banks, D.D., LL.D., '^Priiu'ipal Boston University." T was no longer an ordinary man ! I communicated all this pleasing news to my family, with the direction that 1 was now to be called " the Doctor." My eldest boy wanted to know if he was not to be called " the young D.D." Well, another thing I must notice— honors always 126 REVERIES— REVIEWS— RECOLLECTIONS. bring additional expense and responsibility. Thip was to be no xception, as I soon discovered. My people were delighted, and very considerately sent me a present of $100, and also increased my annual stipend by the same amount. Letters of congratulation came in by every mail, for you must know that D.D.'s were not as plentiful in Canada a quarter of a century ago as they are at present. It was then regarded by the great majority as a real mark of distinction. Requests came by the dozen from various congregations, hoping " the Doctor " would give them a Sabbath on the occa- sion of their next church anniversary, about half a dozen of which I endeavored to comply with annually. Some four or live years later, 1 received a letter of which the following is a literal copy. There may be honorable men who judge others by themselves, and on reading this account may doubt its truthfulness. Now, I beg to assure every such doubter that I have not set down aught in malice. I dare say some of the blanks referred to could be found among bundles of other rubbishly papers, if I were to make the search : ' ' Office of T)e Bleury College, "City of Cavour, M<>., "August 26th, 18—. "Rev. and Dear Sir,— I take the liberty of sending to your atUlreBS ten blank diplomas from the Faculty of Do Bleury Col- lege, conferring the honorary degree of D.D. upon as many ministers as may be willing to comply with the conditions. Wo leave it to your (.wn judgment as to who may receive the degree. The recipient t)f a parchment usually pays twenty dollars, the TrMOTHY OLDHOYS RECOLLECTIONS, IS half of which you are at liberty to retfiin, and the balance please to remit to uiy address for the l)enefit of tht? College. We have already had returns from some of the principal cities of your Dominion, and also from every State of the U'^'on. "Our charter was i)rocured only three years ago, and i)aying the members of our Legislature through whom it was o])tained has kept us poor. As yet we have no building — the ofHce is in my own house. The President has been appointed Professor of New Theology, and also Rhet«)ric and Belles Lettres, so Miat his hands are already full. " Hoping to hear frtmi you as speedily as possible, "Believe me to be " Yours fraternally, "JoHiAH Newman, D.D., ^^ President D<> Blenrij CoVe i :! POKMS. FAREWELL TO HOME. Tune—*' Bounding Billow. " WELLS my heart with poignant sorrow, While I think of friends and home ; Forth I leave you on the morrow, O'er this weary world to roam. But each duty brings its blessing, When the heart is cheer'd by God ; With His streams of grace refreshing, Then I'll spread His praise abroad. And my God will surely guide me O'er the weary waves of life ; 'Neath His wings I'll safely hide me, 'Mid its changing, fluttering strife. When its toils and joys are over, All its sorrows, all its pain, Then in heaven we'll meet each other, Where we'll never part agaii] ! 136 POEMS. ELORA. .">-> < LORA ! T would that I had seen thee When no other but the native Indian, Or the wild woodland deer, with outspread horns, Or other forest denizen were found Wand'ring aside thy meand'ring river, — Then might I have survey 'd the works of God, In all their unadorned ii.ajesty ! But now the busy hum of men is heard Around thy unique waterfall ; Forests have yielded to the woodman's axe, Where erst the aboriginal abode Was found- a wigwam, in sitnplicity Of style, with native luxury adorn'd. The Huron or the Mohawk no longer Finds place to rest ; the race is ebbing out, And soon not e'en a renmant will be found ! Still thou art beautiful ! Th}' rising hills, each side thy nnirm'riug stream, Refresh the sight of weary travellers. And call from thy own sons, and daughters i'air, Exulting strains, praising thy rural scenes ! Still thou art beautiful ! Thy old river Rolls unceasingly in its ancient couise, With slonimr banks unto its verv edtro ; ...^Aimmm!.. ^'^m KLOUA. Or, more majestic, dances o'er the rocks In its firm bed, with banks of durinjr stone Reared upward ; and whirling eddies form, Or bounding spray leaps up. Emblem of life ! Ever swiftly in its allotted course, But seldom smoothly, may it pass away. The rocks of pride— the quicksands of despair- The yawning whirlpools of our common foe, Are lurking ever in its devious path ! I love to look upon that waterfall ! In haste it rushes o'er the shelving rocks, And hurriedly pursues its course below ; I love to look upon the rising sprav, And watch until, its force all spent, it falls With listlessness into the pool beneath. 137 And that old rock ! Alone and solitary does it stand ; Its rugged edge o'erhangs the bubbling eddies ; The passing stream of many ages gone Has wash'd away its base and left it there. Ere many years, like some time-worn old man, Whose age is more than his allotted space, 'Twill suddenly, with some bold rushing flood, Roll o'er into the deep beneath ! I love to look upon thy cypress trees. With drooping branches, ever-during green ; Or tap'ring balsam, with its spiry top; 10 188 I'OEMS. Or climb among thy everlasting rocks, Of primitive formation, as they were When He, whose wisdom governs all things, Gave them a new existence ! Elora, thou art beautiful ! Here commerce, health and beauty all may bloom ; Religion, too, might flourish 'mid thy scenes Of peace, where poverty nor luxury Have bound thy sons with stern, unbending hand. May no deadly moral blight e'er throw Its with'ring coil around thy infant name ; May thy fair daughters and their sons know Him, Whom if they know, eternal life enjoy ! ENVY. It Thou taintest all thou look'st upon." r'-i:«s- •> jTrCTENCE, baneful Envy, monster, demon, hence I cis Presume not like a king, as thou art wont, To sway thy with'ring sceptre o'er our race, Or, like a god, to reign within the breast, And shed thy flick'ring, dimming light around In every action ! I've seen thy sceptre, Malicious tyrant of the sinning race ! With vengeful zeal swayecj q'er m> fellow-man ; ENVY. 139 Men, created to partake of joys divine — Men, designed of God to live forever — Men, redeemed with Christ's most precious blood, Have yielded to thy death -diffusing power ! Yea more : Malignant Envy rose above the skies, And fain would climb high heaven's imperial throne ! Lucifer, impelled by the malign decree, Made war in heaven ; his unholy object To dethrone th' eternal glorious King ! Was it not well, infernal monster, , That angels once all were hcfiy, happy. In the presence of their God ? Till thou Since then, and now, with zeal unabated, Infused into the peaceful breast of one, Brighter, it might be more holy than other Of heaven's inhabitants, struggling passion For pre-eminence ! A sad pre-eminence He has obtained in a less holy place ! There may thy sway, henceforth, alone be found ! Arise, ye Christian race ! Shall deathless souls, Designed to sing forever unto Him Who loved and washed them from their guilty stains, Thus yield their powers to thee ? Shake off the yoke By which the soul has been enchained. Arise ! God calls you to a better, nobler state ; A constellation of eternal bliss Lies in the vista of futurity ! Repeat the strain ; arise ! partake the bliss ; No lonirur yield vou to th«» temntfir's nower ! 140 POEMS. if CHRIST'S NATIVITY. "The Word was made flesh.'" — John i. 14. pro- I. HE world was dark,— systems had bee claim'd Some thousand years before, — tottering they stand, But speedily to fall. Truths not even nam'd Beyond the precincts of Judea's land Had travers'd to the broad sea's utmost strand ; Nations had tasted truth's life-giving spring, But yet they thirst, — they wait till God's comniand, Obeyed, shall to their souls sweet solace bring, And He, the Christ, stand on the earth a God-like king ! Il II. Ancient forms, yielding to a ruthless power. No longer give the mind a resting-place ; The Gentile priests, amazed, look for the hour When their frail imag'ry shall have no space Whereon to stand. Apollo's priestly race Have lost their power ; the oracle no more Responds in Delphi's hall — dark is the case — All is cheerless sadness, niirht's srloom hano-s o'er Futurity ! though time runs ceaseless as before ! II CHRIST S NATIVITY. 141 III. The nations bowed to famed Imperial Rome. Liberty ! prized as life by patriotic bands, Was far from many as their much-loved home ; Led on in sorrow from their distant lands To grace the triumph of a victor's hands, Sad was their fate, and heavy was their heart While they obey'd a Roman's stern commands ; And yet they dare not but perform their part To please, though it should be with melancholy art. IV. But war had ceased, and peace its right maintained, The doors of Janus' temple now were closed ; Augustus Csesar his mild sway sustain'd, The world bowed to his sceptre and proposed To celebrate his triumph o'er his foes ; From Juda's hills to Britain's distant coast Then loudly a wild song of praise uprose. The strains prolong'd by an unthinking host, — Proud C.iBsar is their joy, their glory, and their boast V. Events do not on all occasions shine • With such transparent lustre to afford At once surpassing bri^'htness to their shrine — Attract a wond'ring throng and best accord With human thoughts — such as the warrior's sword Achieves. More glorious are Jehovah's ways — " Let there be light," was His creative word. Light came, obeying what the Almighty says ; Albeit we wonder not to see its beauteous rays ! 142 POEMS. f u* II VI. Thus while the source of uncreated light Was born in favored Palestine, no fame Or vain display of human pomp or might Told where the Son of God, whose glorious name Should give new life, whose constant work and aim Should be to do His people good, was found ; No empty human pageantries proclaim Hosannas with a loud and solemn sound ; Thee, O Ephratah ! only heard his praise abound ' VII. Nobler paeans than aught of earth could raise Were chanted o'er Bethlehem's favor'd plain, • Shepherds, who watch their flocks, stand in amaze • A glorious light from heaven descends amain And shines around, bright and more bright again, While angels sing, Glory to God above — Prolong the strain — peace and good- will to men, — Secure the bliss — partake his offered love To man, through Bethl'em's babe God's choicest bless- ings move. VIII. But lo ! a star adorns the horizon To guide to Him the wise men of the East ; Bright were the rays it shed their path upon. They go, obeying the divine behest, Salute the King with holier zest Then they had every felt or known before Within their joyous, consecrated breast, — ON THE OEATH of MY ONLY DAUGHTER. 143 They fall before His feet — present their store To Him, who gives them joy and life for evermore. IX. Bright star ! O wouldst thou shine and guide us now To where the world's Redeemer may be found ; We see thee in the Book Divine, and bow Before His glorious face ; with solemn sound We sing His praise, and shout the world around, Glory to God, a Saviour's now revealed. Our songs of praise shall more and more abound ; Awake the sleeper — let the sick be healed — And may each heart be by thy Holy Spirit seale:! ! ON THE DEATH OF MY ONLY DAUGHTER. DECEMBER 29, 1882. CX: MARY, thou art beautiful ! I think I never gazed upon a face like thine, — Guileless, pure, lovely, only to be loved ; With large, soft hazel-eyes, a ceaseless smile Played on every feature ; thy rosy lips Half -parted ever, tempting to partake Kisses, sweeter than nectar of the gods. " A thing of beauty, and joy " of many. Many hearts wert thou while with us thou stayed ! 144 POEMS. Oft had my thoughts run thus Since this new object of my love had come T' enchain my heart in such a sweet embrace ;— If I should live to age and feebleness, Unable to minister to any want, How blest to have my own dear Mary near, To hear the music of her voice, to see Her beauty-beaming eye, to feel the touch Of loving, gentle hands,— so tenderly I Mary ! a minist'ring angel thou wouldst be ! The mother, now so bright p.nd beautiful. Would then begin to feel the weight of years. How would oyr hearts rejoice in Mary's love, No human tongue could tell. Such were my dream.s. The loving Father came from heaven and said, " I'll take her to a better clime than this, Where she may live and love for evermore !" Day and night I gaz'd on thee, my Mary dear, 1 did not think— I could not think that thou Wouldst leave us, until I saw thee struggle. E'en in the very jaws of death itself. Two little girls, two little boys, children Of one common stock, on earth, in heaven too, Were there long years before to welcome thee ! Long as my God while here shall lend me breath, I'll think sometimes of thee, my darling girl ! I know not if they greet thee sister there, I know not if they call thee Mary now,— THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. But this I know, thou art an angel bright, And pure, and beautiful, and good, — too good To stay with us below, I'll therefore go To THEE, 145 THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. *' And is there love In heavenly spirite to these creatures base. That may compassion of their evils move ? There is. How oft do they their silver bowers leave, To come to succor us that succor want ? How oft do they with golden pinions cleave • The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant." —Spenser's "Fairie Queen." DT T was the calm, still evening hour, . 4^, I sat me in the summer bower ; I thought of home~I thought of bliss— I thought of other worlds than this ! While gazing on the starry sky, A bright and beauteous thing stood by : And then outbeamed a heavenly smile, He thus commenced his song the while : " My home is yon bright world above, But Fm a messenger of love ! I've been thy guardian, child of earth, From the first hour whinh anvp fboo Ki»'Hi • 146 POEMS. Oft have I left that glorious scene, And followed thee o'er this terrene ; I guided thee o'er the trackless deep ; I've followed thee up the mountain steep ; I've seen thee stand on the craggy rock ; I've watch'd thee 'mid the earthquake's shock, And when the fierce tornado's blast, With gathering fury round thee cast, With dread intent, its firm embrace, And thou hast sought some sheltering place, Wherein to hide thee from its aim, I've still thy friend and saviour been, And thus prolonged life's changing game, In this unknown and varied scene. But more than this, thou child of earth ! — I've guarded thee 'mid scenes of mirth ! I've brought thee safe through snares of vice, And many ills which youth entice. I've touched thee with my radiant wing,* When thou hast thought no holy thing Did thus its kindly aid afford, To cause each heart, in sweet accord, With thee to join in songs divine. To Him who doth His gifts bestow On seraphs bright, who ever shine Before His throne, and men below. * A beautiful legend exists in some parts of Germany, that a Person who first breaks silence in a mixed company after a pause, is touched by an angel's wing. AUTUMN. I'll be thy guardian angel still ; I'll teach thee God's most holy will ; I'll be thy guide where'er thou 'It go ; I'll keep thee safe from every foe ! While thou'rt submissive to ray power, I'll comfort thee each trying hour. Though devils all their arts avail, And men with them thy faith assail, Trust thou in Him wr » doth declare, I'll not foi'sake nor ever leave ; The soul He's watched with tender care, He never, never can deceive." Fare thee well, thou guardian spirit ! When this vain pilgrimage is o'er, And wash'd throughout by Jesus' merit, I'll meet thee where we'll part no more. 147 AUTUMN. lat a uise, GAIN old Time with ceaseless round has brouorht His autumn days, with pensive pleasure fraught; Nipt by the early frost, the forest tree Presents the emblem of mortality. 148 POEMS. The spring diffused its quickening showers, The forests spread their shadowy bowers, The summer sun shed forth its genial rays, All nature smiled to see the lengthened days. But summer's beauties soon, alas ! are past, To summer sun succeeds the autumn blast ; The withering leaf assumes its yellow hue, To teach frail man that he is mortal too ! Sweet autumn day ! I love the pensive sadness, Thoughts of thee infuse, more than all the gladness Of gay, young hearts, who, without God or heaven, Think not of thee, or thv sad lessons jjriven. I own it is a uielancho^ thought, That we, like fallen leaves, must soon be brought To kiss our native earth, and closely lie Entombed. O man, remember thou must die ! But what if on the resurrection's morn We rise renewed on angels' wings upborne ? The monster death may lose his boasted power. The Christian meets him in a happy hour. LINES TO MARY ELIZA. 149 LINES TO MARY ELIZA. [The subject of the following lines is a little girl about four years of age, who always greeted the writer in the tenderest terms of aflfection, and left for a distant home without having an opportunity of saying farewell. A few weeks after this she died of scarlet fever.] §ND art thou gone, sweet little one, Without a last good-bye ; And may I not that welcome find, From thy young beaming eye ? Thy words of love to parents dear. Are like the thoughts of heaven The Christian feels, when by his God Are purest blessings given. And those to me were oft address'd In accents of delight ; Such as should rise in praise divine To heaven's majestic height. The Saviour taught, while here He stay'd, That children such as thee, Before His Father's throne appear. In blessed purity ! I'll pray for thee, sweet little one, That thy life's stream may flow O'er these tempestuous, troublous waves, Ever as calm as now. 150 POEMS. may thy life be trained for God ! That when at last we rise, That if on earth no more we meet — We meet above the skies ! TO MARY ELIZA IN HEAVEN. [HERE is a world above this earth, A world of spirits bright, Where all is joy and heavenly mirth, And love and heavenly light. To that blest world our thoughts aspire, While here God's praise we sing ; We strike with joy the golden lyre, And cheerful tribute bring. And when we think of those we loved, Though transient was their tay ; With lively hope our souls are moved, We long to soar away ! Oh, happy, happy is that place Where all our spirits meet ; Beyond the bounds of nether space We'll soon each other greet. Sweet little girl, and thou art there, An an^el bright and pure, Far from the reach of every care, And every sinful lure. TO MARY ELIZA IN HEAVEN. 151 And thou art fit to dwell with God ! From sin thy soul is free ; I hail thee in thy blest abode, And pray to dwell with thee. Short was thy stay in this vain world, Its cares thou never knew, Affection's banner, wide unfurled, Its shadow o'er thee threw. Though thou this world art far above, And sorrows cause to sigh, I'll not forget thy smile of love, And beauty-beaming eye. When anxious thoughts would tear my breast, And cause the tears to flow, I'll think of thee and heavenly rest, Far from these scenes of woe ! What though thy parents mourn thee lost, And sorrow tills the heart ; Thou'rt one of God's redeemed host, From Him no more to part ! Angelic spirit ! fare thee well ; A few more days and years, We hope to join the song and tell JJe's wiped away our tears ' 152 POEMS. i! TO THE YOUNG MEN OJ GUELPH. ^M^OM.^ listen to me, I'll sing you a y^ A theme I've obtained, and moi ditty, more is the pity ; I'll not, with old Homer, go back to Troy, Nor sing, with Kirke White, of the " Wandering Boy." My theme is a good one, I know you'll admit. If you'll have the patience a minute to sit ; 'Tis not, of all others, my own pretty self — Far better than this — 'tis the "young men of Guelph !" The "young men of Guelph!" why, what have they done, That thus you are writing and making a pun ? They've done nothing yet, but propose to begin A course, of all others, to keep them in sin ! They intend to "get up," as you will see. An Amateur Theatrical hee ; In order to cheat Old Nick of his due. For charity's use they'll give every sou ! The Herald may say he sees " no objection," But by this he just proves that he's caught the infection. We think it's a pity but Shakespeare could rise And see how these " young men " his heroes disguise ; Could he hear Othello declare his firm hate. Or Desdemona bewail her sad fate, 1 trow he'd think them from some foreign hiiul, Put in his caveat, and call them to stand. Yei Tho No\ 'Tis V Sto THE infant's burial. 1 5J^ Ye spirits of Kean— of Siddons— of Kemble ! Those "young men" declare they'll make you all tremble ! Now Garrick's no more— Macready has done— 'Tis here they will have most wonderful fun ! why should you act like some silly elf ? Stop, ere you begin, ye " young men of Guelph !" THE INFANT'S BURIAL. FOUNDED ON FACT. e::*- ITl saw a mother bending o'er J<, A lovely daughter's grave, While sorrow pressed upon her heart, For her she could not save. I heard her say, " My lovely child, Why art thou gone from me ? My heart was glad whilo here thou stayed, And I thy face could see ! But then," she said, in accents mild, •' My Father's will is best ; 'Tis His design, my Mary's gone To her eternal rest." 11 154 POEMS. She raised her heart in humble prayer To heaven's glorious throne : " Support me in this trying hour, My God, Thy will be done ! " All wisdom doth belong to Thee, Thou God of heaven and earth ; Our joys and sorrows are divine, They have in Thee their birth. " I mourn not, Mary, without hope, Though thou'lt not come to me ; I'll live to God while here below, And then I'll go to thee." She bowed submissive to the will Of Him who ruleth well ; Though nature still its right maintained, Her grief she did not tell. That mother's heart yearned o'er her babe, Though not a tear she shed ; Her cheek was pale — her eye was fixed, She felt her child was dead ! A little boy stood by the grave — He had not learned to weep, For sorrow had not touched his heart, — He thought she was asleep. THE infant's burial. He kissed his sister's cold, pale cheek (Her corpse was covered o'er), And then he turned, and cried aloud, " I'll never see her more !" " Why weepest thou, my darling boy ?" His mother softly said ; " The grass will grow upon her grave, It is a quiet bed ! " 0, nearer to thy mother's heart Wilt thou and Annie be. Since Mary's gone to heaven above. Her Father's face to see. 155 " If thou art good, as Mary was, While here she stayed below, Thou'lt see her in a brighter place, Nor sin nor sorrow know !"