X X sig-jed* £11,'?^ b\r.lW£a,rber Ib^W^^^^^^^ s >■ »i-rii heqins Life 5 Vriy?i^p' rruj flcurry seems - da/u/ers lurk around ■YBLWeys hub, (•I idebwk. Jir safdy makes his passaxje - manhood sees youthful visions pass away, an Ii4 d^n with IwfirmJttxs . with shattered bark passes into the sea unknown; shoreless, faffu fbai he/hre hwi: Fleasure.Fuches. Fame Scc.tenipt him aside, but if hf lu/'ds. tJir divine uidzshjsjoaded hark throuifh brokers . storms S: floods. (i\x\ \^.v. totltis with wastiriQ yars 'M. eteiTia] , tv sink m deepest luqtii. or nse te endless, llissful. qlorwus day.' THE BIBLE LOOKING GLASS: REFLECTOR, COMPANION AND GUIDE TO THE GREAT TRUTHS OF THE SACRED SCRIPTURES, AND ILLUSTRATING THE DIVERSITIES OF HUMAN CHARACTER, AND THE QUALITIES OF THE HUMAN HEART. Consisting op Six Books in two Parts. PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED BY OBJECT TEACHING PICTURES Showing the pain and misery resulting' fro7n vice, a7id the PEACE and HAPPINESS arising from virtue. By JOHN W. BARBER and OTHERS. PART A. Religious Emblems — Religious Allegories — Christian Pilgrim. BRADLEY, GARRETSON & CO., PHILADELPHIA, No. 66 NORTH FOURTH STREET, WILLIAM GARRETSON & CO., OALESBURG, ILL., COLUMBUS, OHIO, NASHVILLE, TENN., HOUSTON, TEXAS, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 1875. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year mdccclxvi, By JOHN W. BARBER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticut. BIBLE LOOKING GLASS. INTRODUCTORY. The leading features of this work, so far as the writer of this preface is concerned, were planned in his youthful days. From early childhood he was strongly attracted and impressed by pictorial representations, and passed much time in making pen-and-ink drawings of such objects as arrested his attention. This inclination increased with his years, but it received only a limited encouragement, and on some occasions its exercise was forbidden as a waste of time. In the year 1812, when he was about fourteen, he was sent to live with Mr. A. Eeed,* of East Windsor (now South Windsor), Connecticut, to learn the art of engraving. Having served his seven years of apprenticeship, he returned to his native place, in Windsor, three miles north of Hartford, to live with his widowed mother, then in depressed circumstances. As there appeared to be no opening for his business, he was, for a time, quite uncer- tain what would be his occupation for the future. He, however, felt a confidence that the Divine Being, whom he was trying to serve, would sup- ply every thing needful and direct him to the course he should pursue. In this hope and expectation, in a life began in the last century and already expanded to nearly three-score years and ten, he has not been disappointed. Nearly half a century since, the writer began in a small way as author and publisher. His first attempt in this branch of business was in the year 1819, and was of the pictorial kind. It was a series of wood-cuts, printed on a half-sheet of printing paper, representing the Christian Pilgrim on his *The writer has ever considered it a favorable circumstance that he become a member of the family of Deacon Abner Reed, where Christian rules were adopted, and where its heads felt an interest in the religious welfare of those under their charge. Mr. Reed died in Toledo, Ohio, in 1866, at the advanced age of ninety-four years. He was remarkable for his cheerfulness through all the vicissitudes of life which he experienced. ii JI^TEODUCTOET. journey from the city of Destruction to the ISTew Jerusalem. It was entitled, "Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Exhibited in a Metamorphosis, or a Trans- formation of Pictures." The print was folded up in the form of a book, and the Pilgrim's course, hi the dift'erent stages of his journey, sho'^^m by lifting parts of a divided leaf downward or upward. The next publication was issued in Hartford, Connecticut, in 1822, and was entitled, "J. Miniature of the World in the Nineteenth Century." The original design for this engraving was made in 1816, when the author was eighteen years of age, and is, in fact, an epitome of the worl^j^jpw in the hands of the reader. A book, also at about that time, was projected, com- bining the essential features of the present volume, under the title of Looking- Glass. The above-mentioned print, in which the broad road to destruction and the narrow path of life are depicted, the author has been assured, has been the means, under God, of turning several from the wicked course to the path of life. Pacts like this show that the Almighty can do a great work by the use of means which may be considered as feeble. It also convinces the author that he has not mistaken his calling. An Emblem is a figure or figures which represent one thing to the eye, while at the same time it suggests another to the understanding. By this raethod, moral and religious truth has been forcibly illustrated. It has been truly said, " Nothing gives greater pleasure than allegory, when the repre- sentative subject bears a strong analogy, in all its circumstances, to that which is represented." To produce this result, every thing faint, obscure, or far-fetched must be avoided. A Similitude is a likeness of one thing to another. The numerous pictures in this volume were designed and drawn by the author, and many of them engraved by him personally. Those parts of this work with which the writer is most particularly con- cerned, were issued at different periods. The first, the Religious Emblems, was published in 1846 ; the Religious Allegories, a few years afterward. The pictorial part of each Emblem and Allegory was drawn off, and the accom- panying matter written by the Rev. Wm. Holmes. The exclusive right to circulate the two united works — Emblems and Alle- gories — was purchased by Mr. Henry Howe, of Cincinnati, and it at once at- tained large sales. The third of these emblematic works, the Christian Similitudes, was first published in 1860, by the author, at New Haven, Connecticut. It is herein revised from the first edition. The Christian Pilgrim is a condensed account of the Pilgrim's Progress, with explanatorj INTRODUCTORY. iii notes, for which the author is largely indebted to Dr. Scott, the com- mentator. A peculiar feature, in this combiiied collection of all these works, is the arranorement, around each of the engravings, of Bible texts, answering to the marginal references used in large Bibles. It appears in none of the pre- vious editions, and is, as the author conceives, a useful original invention of his, to more fully illustrate the subjects depicted, and to lead the reader to obey th^^vine injunction, "to search the Scriptures." The pTan of combining these four emblematical works in one volume was suggested by Mr. Howe several years since. The form was also suggested by him, and, although rather antique, it will be found convenient to the reader and in the shape in which it will be transmitted to posterity. The fifth book, the "Sunday Book," by Mr. Howe himself, and also a sixth. " Gray's Elegy," illustrated, are annexed for the sake of variety. Judo-ins: from the time these emblematic works have been before the public, and the approval they have received from Christians of all denomi- nations, their adaptation to ail classes, and especially from the Bible truths they exhibit, it is believed they will be read with pleasure and profit long after we have have left these mortal scenes. We feel in some measure the responsibility of circulating and explaining the Truth of God to those around us, and we hope that hereafter, at the final summing up of all things, it will be made to appear that we have not lived in vain. John Wabjs^er Barber. New Haven, Connectiqut. For "J. Few Words from the Publisher" see Part B. KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS: BEING A SERIES OF EMBLEMATIC ENGRAVINGS, WITH WRITTEN EXPLANATIONS, MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS, AND RELIGIOUS REFLECTIONS, DESIGNED TO ILLUSTRATE DIVINE TRUTH, IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CARDINAL PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIANITY. ^^ I have used similitudes." Hosea, xii : 10. BY WILLIAM HOLMES, MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL; AND JOHN W. BARBER, AUTHOR OF SEVERAL HISTORICAL AND RELIGIOUS WORKS. BRADLEY, GARRETSON & CO., PHILADELPHIA, No. 66 NORTH FOURTH STREET, WILLIAM GARRETSON & CO., GALESBURG, ILL., COLUMBUS, OHIO, NASHVILLE, TENN., HOUSTON, TEXAS, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 1875. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year mdccclxxiii, By JOHN ^V. BARBER, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year mdcccxlvi, By JOHN W. BARBER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticut. RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. Kino & Baikd, Pbinteks and Stebeotypees, 607 SANSOM Street. CONTENTS OF RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. PAGB True and False Principles 11 Truth . . 13 Symbols of Faith 15 The Way of Holiness 17 The Weight of God's Word 19 The Christian Eace 21 Salvation 23 The Christian Soldier 25 The Strait or Narrow Gate , 27 Double-mindedness.. . . = 29 The House Founded on a Eock 31 Self-confidence 33 The Sun of Truth 35 Light in Darkness 37 The Worldling 39 The Cross-bearer 41 Worldly Honor 43 Heavenly Desire 45 The Fatal Current 47 Salvation by Faith 49 Simplicity, or Want of Understanding 51 The Persecuted Christian 53 The Soul in Bondage 55 The Danger of Self-indulgence 57 Carnal Security 59 The Threefold Demon, or Envy, Hatred, and Malice 61 Christian Faith, or Eeligion 63 Hope 65 Brotherly Kindness 67 Divine Love and Justice 69 Reconciliation 71 Adoption 73 Spiritual Pride 75 10 CONTENTS. PAGK Hypocrisy 77 Slander and Backbiting 79 The Tree of Evil . , 81 Anger, or Madness 83 Eepentance 85 Fearful and Fearless 87 The Two Worldlings 89 Faith and Works 91 Precipitation 93 Vain Pursuits 95 Danger of Greatness 97 Guilt 99 Patience and Long-suffering 101 Temptation 103 Prudence and Foresight ^ 105 Fortitude and Constancy 107 The Fast-anchored Ship 109 Unanimity • 111 Religious Emblems. JOHN, Chap, xiv verse 6. PSALM c: verse 5. JOHX, Chap, xviii ; verse 37. psal:m xix: verse 8. TRUE AKD FALSE PRINCIPLES. NEHEMIAH, Chap, ix: verses 13, 14. ^^m JEEEMIAH, Chap, xxiii: verse 32. EZEKIEL, Chap, xiii : verses 10, 11 ^^- EPIIESIAXS. Chap, iv: verse 14. 25. Sut the xoord of the Lord endureth forever. 1 Pet. i. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away. Ma.tt. xxiv : 35. 'T IS thus amid the arctic regions, rise, The Iceberg's turrets glittering in the skies, Like some cathedral Gothic built, it rides, Borne by the winds, and ever-shifting tides: All shapes fantastic soon the phantom wears, A palace now, and now a ship appears: At length it drifts toward some southern shore, AVhen, lo! 't is vanish'd, and is seen no more. Not as the Rock that rears its ancient head, Its deep foundations laid in ocean's bed; All change resists, unaltei''d is its form. Amid the sunshine, and amid the storm, Unmoved it stands, and still 't will stand secure, Long as the moon, and as the sun endure. The Iceberg lifts its towering sum- mit to the clouds, sparkling and daz- zhng like a group of temples overlaid with silver. Its crvstalline magnifi- cence is bewildorinsf ; it forms one of the most splendid objects that the mar- (11) 12 eelictIous emblems iner meets with in the northern seas, and at the same time one of the most dangerous. It is a floating mass with- out foundation ; winds, waves, and currents bear it along in all directions. It assumes the most fantastic shapes imaginable; sometimes it looks like mountains piled on mountains; then temples, palaces, and ships are seen by turns ; then again cathedrals, of every order of architecture, appear to the eye of the wondering beholder. After awhile it drifts out of the highlatitndes into milder climes. It is carried to- ward the southern shores ; the sun pours its burning rays upon the mammoth temple; turret after turret, spire after spire disappear, until the whole has dissolved. Its glory has departed. How very different is the nature and destiny of the Rock that is seen iift- ino- its time-worn head above the sur- rounding waves ! It is probably as old as time itself; it retains its ancient po- sition; its foundations take hold of the world ; it is marked in the cliarts, men always know where to iind it, and are therefore not endangered by it. Chang- ing the form of the element that sur- rounds it, itself unchanged, tbe sum- mer's sun and winter's storm alike pass harmlessly by it. It is one of the everlasting hills, it must abide forever. The engraving is an emblem of True and False Principles. False principles are represented % the Iceberg. Like the iceberg, they are without a foun- dation; however spacious, brilliant, and fascinating their appearance, they have no solidity. Like it, too, they are ever-changing; their form receives its various impressions from the ever- fluctuating speculations of mankind, and from the power and influence of the times. Like it, they are cold and cheerless to the soul, nipping all its budding prospects, cramping all its mighty powers. Like the iceberg, also, false principles will melt away before the burning sun of truth, and pass into oblivion. It luill not do to trust in them. Who would make a dwelling-house of the transitory iceberg? It is not so with true principles; although they may appear somewhat homely at first sight, yet the more they are contemplated the more they will be admired. Like the Rock, their foundations are laid broad and deep. The principles of truth rest on the throne of God; they are as ancient as eternity. Like the Rock, they may always be found. Are they not writ- ten in the Holy Bible "? Like their Au- thor, they are without variableness or shadow of turning; for, " Firm as a Eock, God's Truth must stand When rolling years shall cease to move." Semj^er idem — " Always the same " — is their motto. Like the Rock of Ages, true principles live when time shall be no more. As are the prin- ciples, so are all who trust in them, for " the rio-hteous shall be had iu everlasting remem])rance. KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 13 EXODUS, Chap, xxiv: verse 6. PSALM XV : verse 2. PEOVEEBS, Chap, xii: verse 17. DANIEL, Chap iv : verse 37. 1 PETEE, Chap, i : verse 22. JOHN, Chap, iv: verse 24. JOHN, Chap, xvii: verse 17. JOHN, Chap, iii: verse 18. TRUTH. Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle ? He that speaketh truth in his heart. Ps. iv : 23. Thy word is Truth. John xvii: 17. Truth, glorious truth, of heavenly birth and fair. In simple majesty array'd, is there; Her right hand holds the faithful mirror clear. Where all things open as the light appear: Her left, upon the sacred page reclines, Where unadulterate truth resplendent shines: The world's false mask she tramples down with scorn, Adorn'd the most, when she would least adorn. As her own temple on the margin seen. Stands forth reflected on the silver stream; So what by her is thought, or said, or done, Appears conspicuous as the noonday sun; Truth is the image of our God above, That shines reflected in his sea of love. All hail, bless'd Truth! thou daughter of skies, Reign thou on earth, and bid earth's sons arise; Bid Virtue load, and Justice hold the scale. For thou art mighty, and wilt soon prevail. tLi Truth is represented in the person of an artless female. She is attired with simplicity. In her right hand she holds a mirror. As the mirror reflects objects that pass before it as the}'- are, without addition, alteration, or diminution, so Truth presents ev- ery thing just as it is. The left hand rests on the Iloly Bible. This is to show that it is from thence she de- rives the principles which regulate her conduct, the source of nnadulterated truth to mankind. She is seen tramp- ling a mask beneath her feet. It is the mask of hypocrisy, which she re- jects with scorn, as being utterly at variance with her principles and feel mgs. In the background stands the u EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, Temple of Truth, the image of which is plainly reflected by the clear, pla- cid stream that glides before it. Truth, in an evangelical sense, is all-important. It alone will give char- acter to an individual, more than all other qualities put together. It is of itself a rich inheritance, of more worth than mines of silver and goLd. It is more ennobling than the highest titles conferred by princes. Every body loves to be respected, but an individual to be loved and respected must be known. He only can be known who speaks the truth from his heart, and acts the truth in his life. We may guess at ^ others, but as we do not know we can not respect them, for like pirates they oftentimes sail under false colors. " ]^o thing is beautiful except Truth," is a maxim of the French, although it has been most deplorably neglected. Nevertheless, the sentiment is correct. Truth is glorious wherever found; Jesus, who is " the truth,'' is the alto- gether lovely, and the fairest among ten thousand. Truth is the glory of youth, and the diadem of the aged. But Truth is essential to happiness, both in this world and also in the next. For " what man is he that de- sireth life, and loveth many days that he may see good? TIeep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile." Lord, who shall dwell in thy holy hill ! He that " speaketh the truth." It is related of Cyrus, that, when asked what was the first thino^ he learned, he replied, " To tell the truth." Cyrus must have been very fortunate in having such good in- structors. Lord Chesterfield would have instructed him difierently. In the days of Daniel (as the tra- dition says) the wise men were or- dered by the king to declare what was the strongest thing on earth. Each man brought in his answers ; one said wine was the strongest, another men- tioned iDomen; Daniel declared that Truth was the most powerful, which answer pleased the king, and the palm of victory was decreed to Daniel. "Seize, then, on truth where'er 'tis found, Among your friends, among your foea ; On Christian, or on heathen ground, The plant's divine where'er it grows." Let not mercy and truth forsake thee ; bind them about thy neck ; write them upon the table of thine heart; so shalt thou find favor and good un- derstanding in the sight of God and man. Prov. Hi: 3. The lip of truth shall be established forever ; but a lying tongue is but for a moment. , Prov. xii : 19. Buy the truth and sell it not. Prov. xii: 23. Lie not against the truth. James Hi: 11. Speak ye every man the truth to his neighbor; execute the judgment of truth. Zech. viii: 16. Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord : but they that deal truly are his delight. P7W. xii: 23. EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 15 1 COEINTH'NS, Chap, xiii: verse 6. HEBEEWS Chap, vi: verse 19. 1 COEINTH'NS, Chap, xiii: verse 7. 1 COEINTH'NS, Chap, xiii: verse 13. TRUTH i^HOPE -!:: AMOS, Chap, xi: verse 4. COLOSSIAXS, Chap, ii: verse 2. EPHESIAXS, Chap, iv: verse 3. EPHESIAXS, Chap, iii: verse 19. ••Hfli- — — --" SYMBOLS OF CHRISTIA:N" FAITH. Till we all come in the unity of the Faith. Ephes. iv: 13. See on the right, all-glorious, ITope doth stand, And gives to heavenly Truth the plighted hand; With Seraph's wings outspread, Love stands be- tween; And binds their hearts with his celestial chain. These are Faith's emblems: these its Parents three ; To produce Faith, Jlc^e, Truth, and Love agree. Christian Faith is represented by a union of Truth, Hope, and Love. The hope of heaven is represented by the Apostle Paul as the anchor of the soul, consequently Hope is usually depicted leaning on an anchor. She holds Truth by the hand, showing that they must be in close alliance. Truth holds in her hand the Holy Bible as a mirror, whereby sinful men can see the deformity of their hearts. With her right hand she receives the overtures of Hope; she tramples under her feet the mask of Hj'poc- risy; simple and unadorned, she re- jects the cloak of dissimulation, and casts aside all concealment. Love holds the middle place, and strength- ens the union subsisting between Hope and Truth. Divine Love is drawn with wings to represent her heavenly or^ igm Faith is both created and preserved by Hope, Truth, and Love. This 16 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. triad constitutes its efficient cause. Truth is indeed the mother of Faith. Hope assists in its creation, by its ex- pectations and desires; Love nour- ishes and reconciles, and thus con- tributes to lay a foundation for Faith. True faith, as represented in the Scriptures, is always connected with a " good hope through grace." The truths of God's Word form the only proper objects for its exercise. "With- out Love there can be no good works, and "without works faith is dead." Christian Faith, as described above, is distinguished from the faith of devils, who are said to " believe and tremble" because they bave no hope; and from the faith of wicked Dien, who " love not the Lord Jesus Christ," and who are consequently " accursed ;" and from the faith of the carnal pro- fessor, who has sold the truth and has pleasure in unrighteousness. The proper use of faith is to bring us to God, to enable us to obtain the promises contained in the word or truth of God. If Christ had not been moved by love^ he would not have sufi'ered; if he had not suffered, we should have had no promise of par- don ; if we had no promises, we should have no hope; if we have no hope, we shall have no saving faith in the mercy of God. Christ is set forth a refuge for sinners; he saves all who flee for refuge to the hope set before them; but those only who believe in him, flee to him. Faith, then, is an instrument of salvation ; " by grace are ye saved through Faith." The sinner hears, and gives cre- dence to the Faith of God; the ter- rors of the Almighty take fast hold upon him; his sins weigh him down to the dust; but hark! the voice of heavenly love is heard proclaiming, " Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." He looks upward ; Hope springs up; he ventures on the Redeemer, "who justifies the ungodly;" his faith has saved him. It is counted to him for righteousness, and being justified by it, he has peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ. A celebrated divine once gave his little child an illustration of the na- ture of Faith in the foUowino; man- ner: The child had a beautiful string of beads, with which she was much delighted. Her father spoke to her, say.ng, "Come, my child, throw those beautiful beads into the fire, and I will, in the course of a few days, give you something far more beautiful and valuable." The child looked up into the face of her father with astonish- ment; after looking for a time, and seeing he was in earnest, she cast her beautiful toys into the fire, and then burst into tears ! Here was Faith. The child believed her father spoke the truth ; she expected, or had a hojpe, he would fulfill his promises; and confiding in his Love, she was will- ing to obey him, though it cost her tears. EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 17 HEBREWS, Chap, xii: verse 14. PSALM ^m XXVI : verse 1. PROVERBS, Chap, ii : verse 20. PROYERBS, Chap, x: verse 9. REYELATIONS Chap, xvi : verse 15. 1 TIMOTHY, Chap, v: verse 22. EPHESIANS, Chap, v: verse 13. 1 PETER, Chap, i: verse 15. -^ "^.TiAtX-.rx-vc .: wx THE WAY OF HOLmESS. And an higlmay shall he there, ajid a way; and it shall be called The loay of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it. Isa., XXXV : 8. There is a place, a Holy place above, Where Angels holy dwell in light and love; There is a God, a Holy God, who reigns. And holy empire over all maintains; There is a Tvay, a holy way, whose road The holy Pilgrim brings to heaven and God: See! on that way the holy Pilgrim hies. Nor doubts at last 't will send him to the skies. With robes entire and garments clean and whit«, He walks with joy along the plains of light. See! one has left the holy way divine, His clothes are soiled, he wallows now with swine; Alone, the Pilgrim on his pathway speeds, And leaves th' apostate to his worldly deeds. See where the way of Ilolincss stands cast up. It is strongly built and conspicuous to all beholders ; a pilgrim is seen walking thereon tri- umphantly and secure; his garments are unsullied and untorn. T)own off the way is one wallowing in the mire; see how he grubs up the iilthy lucre. His garments are rent and soiled; 2 the beastly swine are his chosen com- panions. This is an emblem of Holiness, and of its professors. The upright con- duct of the pious is called a " way," a " highway," and " The way of Holi- ness." It is a way of safety, " Xo lion shall be there," and " the wav- faring man, though a fool [illiterate]. 18 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. shall not err therein." The Pilgrim pursuing his journey, with his gar- ments unsullied and untorn, denotes the Christian " walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless." " The tine linen, clean and white, is the righteousness of the saints." The man among the swine signifies an Apostate from God and Holiness; he has "left oti" to do good ;" the love of the world has again taken possession of him; " he has turned as the dog to his vomit again, and as the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire." Holiness in man consists in obedi- ence to the divine commands — in lov- ing God supremely — in loving our neighbor as ourselves. Man, by na- ture and by practice, is sinful, and sin is superlatively selfish. A selfish- ness pervades the heart, which is en- mity against God. It is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be, consequently the love of Goddwell- eth not in the selfish heart. Selfishness is the prolific source of every vice, giving birth to oppression, falsehood, injustice, and covetousuess, producing outbreaks of the basest pas- sions, such as envy, wrath, malice, pride, revenge, which end in crimes of deepest guilt. On theotherhand, Holiness is bound- lessly benevolent; it embraces God, it embraces the world. It gives to God the sincere worship of an undivided heart. It gives to man the generous activ- ities of a useful life. The man of ho- liness is the almoner of a world. The Law of Jehovah is the proper stand- ard of holiness; the Almighty himself the only proper model for study and imitation; therefore, of the man of Holiness it is said, " The law of God is in his heart, none of his steps shall slide." And hence it is written, "Be ye holy, for I am holy." Hence we may learn that the subject is one of great importance, since whatever we may possess beside, without holiness, no one shall see the Lord; it is the wedding-garment which renders the guest welcome at the marriage supper of the Lamb ; it is the fine linen, clean and white, which is the righteousness of the saints. Thus it signifies a prep- aration for eternal glory. Holiness and happiness are divine sisters; twins, always seen together. God has stamped the seal of his ap- probation on every thing approaching to innocence and purity; it is seen in nature — the roar of the lion, the fierce howling of the wolf is the language of disquietude and of blood, striking terror into the boldest heart; while the cooing of the turtle-dove, the bleat- ing of the fleecy lamb, speak the lan- guage of innocence and peace. We may visit the mansions of the rich, the castles of the powerful, or the palaces of kings, yet if holiness be wanting, in vain do we search for happiness. It is not there. We may visit the abodes of the poor, the cottage of the afflicted, the hovel of the dying. If Ave find the inmates in possession of holiness, there also we find happiness; poverty does not expel her, affliction does not drive her away, death even can not pro- nounce a divorce; united are they in life, undivided in death, inseparable to all eternity. IIELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 19 ISAIAH, Chap, xl : verse 8. HEBEEWS, Chap, iv: verse 12. LUKE, Chap, iv : verse 32. . PSALM cxxxviii: verse 2. JOEL, Chap, ii: verse 11, MATTHEW, Chap, xxiv: verse 35. PSALM cxix: verse 89. PSALM cxix: verse 160. THE WEIGHT OF GOD'S WORD. We have also a more sure word of prophecy. 2 Fet. i : 9. Look where the impartial balance hangs on high, The Almighty's word against weak man's to ti'y ; Huge folios rare, and many a bulky bale, Are brought, and laid upon the even scale: Of "Council's" records many a tome is sent. From the great Nicean, down to that of Trent; "Creeds," "isms," creatures of the human thought, Ancient and modern, are together brought; And " Fathers " numerous, a learned line From Pseudo-Barnabas to Augustine ; The Bible now, of Protestants the pride, Is placed alone upon the other side : Creeds, Councils, Fathers, isms, twenty ream, Fly up like chaff, and straightway kick the beam. A pair of scales are shown of equal balance, one side of which is loaded with books, packages, and parch- ments. Here are the minutes of eighteen general councils, beginning with that held in Nice, in the year of our Lord 325, and ending with that of Trent, Avhich began in the year 1545, and closed in 1563, with many others. Tliere are also the writings of the "Fathers," from those ascribed to Barnabas, but considered spurious, downward. Then there are Creeds without number, both of ancient and modern date; next follow the various isms of the dav, that set tlieniselve?^ up against the Word of God, These are all placed on one scale ; the Bible is now brought and placed on the other, when,"lo! "Creeds, Councils, Fathers, and isms" are but as the dust of the balance. Lighter than vanity, they fly up and kiak the beam; one Bible outweighs them all. 20 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. This emblem is designed to show the authority of the Bible over the doctrines and commandments of men. "When the lion roars, the beasts of the forests keep silence ; when Jehovah speaks, the inhabitants of the world ought to stand in awe. During the space of fifteen hundred years, God uttered his voice in the ears of the children of men. He has declared his will, and sanctioned such revela- tion by the repeated manifestations of his almighty power. He emploj^ed holy men as the authorized recorders of his laws, and closed the whole with the denouncement of a curse against all who should add to or diiifinish therefrom. Notwithstanding this, there have been men in all ages who have set up their will against that of the great Jehovah. They have made a record of the same, forbidding what God has commanded, and ordaining what God has prohibited. Thus, by their tra- ditions, they make void the laws of the Eternal. What folly is this ! what blasphemy! what rebellion! The words of the Lord are tried, pure, and everlasting; those of men are short- weight, corrupt, and are passing away. By the laws of God, not by the opin- ions of men, we shall be judged at the last day. Terribly has the curse fallen upon those who have established human opinions in opposition to the Word of God ; witness the Jews, who, since the fatal overthrow of their city, have been vagabonds over all the face of the earth. Witness the poverty, ig- norance, and misery of those parts of the world where human creeds pre- vail, and where the Bible is rejected; yea, witness in the case of every man who substitutes his will for God's. To the law and to the testimony, if" they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no li2:ht in them. All scripture is given by inspira- tion of God, and is profitable for doc- trine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness. 2 Tim. in: 16. Search the Scriptures. Matt, xxii: 29. We thank God without ceasing, because when we received the Word of God which ye heard of us, ye re- ceived it not as the word of men, but as it is of truth, the Word of God. 1 Thess. ii: 13. Ye shall not add unto the word which I command you, neither shall ye diminish aught from it. Deut. iv : 2. If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book. Hev. xxi: 18. EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 21 1 COEINTH'NS, Chap, ix: verse 25. HEBEEWS, ^ Chap, xii; verse 1. 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, iv: verse 7, MATTHEW, Chap, x: verse 22. THE CHRISTIAN RACE. So run that ye may obtain. 1 Cor. ix: 24. HEBREWS, Chap, iii: verse 14. LUKE, Chap, xiii: verse 25. HEBEEWS, Chap, xii: verse 2. 2 TIMOTHY, Chap ii : verse 2. Behold! the race-course here before us lies; See! many running for the glorious prize; Some sweat and toil, and mauger all their pains, Small is their progress, smaller still their gains. With weights oppress'd, of sordid gold and care, They run awhile, then give up in despair. But one is seen whose speed outstrips tlie wind, The laggers all he quickly leaves behind; Conformd to rule, he casts all burdens down. And presses forward to receive the crown. In his exhortations to Christians, the great apostle of the Gentiles very often alludes to the Olj-mpic games. These games were celebrated in dif- ferent parts of Greece, particularly on the isthmus which joined the Morea to the main land ; hence called the Isthmian exercises. They were held on the banks of the river Alpheus, near 01ym])ia, a city of Elis. They were considered of so much impor- tance, that from the period of their first regular establishment a new era of reckoning time was constituted, just as we reckon from the birth oi Jesus Christ. Each Olympiad con- sisted of four years; hence they dated events from the first, second, third, or fourth year of any particular Olym- ]iiad. The first Olympiad commenced 776 years before the Christian era. These exercises consisted of five dif- ferent kinds, viz.: boxing, wrcstlin«-, leaping, the quoit, and racing. A\ e confine ourselves to the illustration of the latter. The celebration of the running-match excited great interest. llence,"the preparation for these fes- 09 KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. tivals was ver^' g^reat. No man could become a candidate for the prize un- less he bore a good character, and regularly exercised himself ten months previously, according to the rules pre- 'scribed. The rules were very severe ; a strict regimen had to be observed, unpalata- ble food to be eaten, abstinence from all luxuries; exercises were to be con- tinued through all weathers, and we know not what besides. And now the grand day has arrived; the judge is appointed, having been previously sworn to deal impartially; the race- course is cleared, the place of start- ing iixed, the judge takes his seat at the goal, or end of the race-ground, and holds in his hand the crown of olive, or of laurel, destined to grace the victor's brow; officers are appoint- ed to keep order. The city is emptied of its inhabitants; all the principal men are there. The candidates make their appearance; every eye is fixed upon them, every heart is in motion. Divested of all needless clothing, some- times naked, they await the signal; 'tis given — oil' they start. Not a whisper is heard among all that multitude; with intense interest they watch the runners as they pass along. A shout is heard. The victor returns, like a triumphant conqueror, drawn in a chariot of four, wearing the crown of victory, and is every-where greeted with the acclamations of the people. Eeligion is compared to a race; the stadium, or race-ground, is the path of piety leading through this world to the next; the runners are those who profess religion ; the officers appoint- ed to keep order, the ministers of the Gospel; the spectators, men and an- gels; the judge, the Lord Jesus Christ; the reward, a crown of righteousness. Let us imagine a compan}^ of young persons just commencing the Christian race. They set off together; the di- rections are given to all ; they are four in number: 1, Be sure to lay aside ev- ery weight; 2. Relinquish the besetting sin; 3. Exercise ])atience; 4. Look to Jesus. They go along pretty well for awhile. Soon one is seen lagging be- hind. What is the matter? He has too much weight about him. An- other drops off; his besetting sin has prevailed. A third is missing; what ails him? O, he is out of patience — with God, himself, and every body be- sides. Some follow the directions, per- severe to the end, and obtain the prize. But mark; of those who run in the Grecian games, one- only could receive the prize. In the Christian race, all may run so as to obtain. The judge there was sometimes partial; the Christian's Umpire is the '-'■Righteous JudgeP The successful candidate, after all his labors, obtained only a garland of withering flowers; the Christian receives a glorious " crown of righteousness that fadeth not away." 11 E L I G I O U S EMBLEMS. 23 PSALM xviii: verse 2. PSALM xviii: verse 6, PSALM Ixix: verse 15. EOMANS, Chap, x: verse 13. ISAIAH, Chap, xii : verse 2. 1 TIMOTHY, Chap, i : verse 15. THESSAL'NS, Chap, v: verses 9, 10. EEYELATIONS Chap. V : verse 9. salyatio:n". In God is my salvation and my glory; the rock of my strength, and my refuge, is in God. Ps. Ixii: 7. Lo! where amid appalling dangers dread, The rock undaunted lifts its welcome head; The ship of commerce gayl}^ sail'd along, All hands were merry with their evening song; When, lo! they scud before a sudden blast, The sails are shiver'd, broken is the mast; The ship is wreck'd, the storm rolls wildly round. The sinking sailors have no footing found. In drowning plight, stunned by the wave's rude shock. The lightning kindly points them to the rook; The Rock they grasp, and raise themselves on high, la conscious safety bid the storm pass by. So when mankind were wreck'd on Eden's shore, Loud was the tempest, loud the thunder's roar; Earth, sea, and skies affrighted were, and toss'd, Tumultuous all. Shall men be saved, or lost? In that wild ocean of despair and dread. The Rock of Ages lifts his lofty head; The sinner, sinking, stunn'd by Sinai's shock. By Sinai's lightning, now beholds the Rock: With glad surprise, more clear his moi-al sight. He sees besides, a cross of heavenly light; The Rock he clambers, to the cross he clings, And saved from danger, of Salvation sings. A short time since, and that ve.ssel I sweet home, was the theme which "was sailing calmly and securely over the soft, blue wave. The voice of song arose, and mins^led its mdodios gladdened every heart. But, ah I thou treacherous sea ! Thou deceitful wind ! How changed the scene! The voice with the light air around. Home, of song is departed, joy and gladness 24 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. are no more. Instead of the music of soft symphonies, are heard the clam- ors of despair, the thunder's mighty roar — old ocean's harsh sounds, and the howling of the storm. The ship is driven fiercely before the gale, sails are rent, one of the masts is gone by the board, ruin steers the ill-fated ship; she strikes upon a reef, the bil- lows roll over her, the crew are washed overboard. Night thickens around with his stormy horrors ; manfully the drowning wretches buffet the waves; the lightning flings its lurid glare around, and shows them their awful condition; again it lightens, and they descry a rock, lifting its head above the billows, and promising a place of safety. Hope revives ; they swim for the rock; soon "they make it." See! they have got upon it. Now they are safe! The vessel, sailing joyfully and se- curely before the gale began, may rep- resent the safe and happy condition of our first parents before they were assailed by the storms of temptation ; the drowning mariners denote the de- plorable state of mankind since the fall, who are sinking amid the waves of guilt and woe ; the tempest over- head denotes the storm that howls over the head of every sinner, in con- sequence of the violation of Jehovah's law. Sinai thunders forth its curses, and flashes its lightnings around the sinner's path, in order to show him his weakness, his guilt, and his dan- ger. As the lightning points the drowning sailor to the rock, so the law directs or opens the way to Christ, that the sinner might be justified by faith in the atonement. The rock, rising in the troubled ocean, aftbrding a shelter from the shipwreck, represents Christ, the Eock of Ages, who has borne all the fury of the storm for man, and who, by his cross, giveth life and light to a dying world. The penitent sinner, feeling himself sinking in the mighty waters, and tremblingly alive to all the dan- gers of the tempest above, and to the more fearful dangers of the rolling waves beneath, escapes to the Rock, embraces the cross, and is safe; i. e., he believes in the Lord Jesus Christ, and is saved. Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high. Hide me, 0, my Savior, hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide, 0, receive my soul at last. KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 25 2 OOEmTH'NS, Chap, x: verse 4. 1 TIMOTHY, Chap, i: verse 18. 1 PETEIl, Chap. V : verses 8, 9. EiPHESIA^S, Chap, vi: verse 17. EPHESIANS, Chap, vi: verses 14, 15. 1 COllINTH'NS, Chap, ix: verse 2G. 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, ii: verse 3. EPHESIAXS, Chap, vi: verse 11. THE CHRISTIAl!^ SOLDIER. And having done all, to stand. Ephes. vi: 13. The Christian hero here has made his stand, Obedient to his Captain's great command; In panoply divine, equipped complete, No danger dreads, no foe he fears to meet: Truth wove the girdle tliat his loins adorn, This bears him scathless througli the battle's storm. A sense of pardon guards each vital part, Aud forms the Breastplate that defends his heart. For brazen Greaves, obedience he takes, Through thorny paths, his onward progress makes. "Hope of Salvation" is his helmet fair; Though oft perplexed, it saves him from despair, lie wields, and not in vain, a trusty sword, A right good blade it is, Jehovah's word; The Spirit's weapon, 'twill each knot untie, Each foe disarm, and make Apollyon fly : O'er all the rest he grasps Faith's mighty shield. Aud onward rushes to the battle-field. As soon as one enlists himself as a soldier of Jesus Christ, that mo- ment the world becomes his enemy. It happens to him as it fell out to the Gibeonites; when they made peace with Joshua, the neicchborinor nations were highly offended, and said to one another, " Come, let us unite our forces that we may smite Gibeon, for it hath made ^^mee with Joshua, and with the children of Israel." But there are other foes, more mighty and fearful, against whom he has to contend. Satan, after G,000 years' practice in the art of destroy- ins: souls, is a powerful opponent. " He goeth about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour ;" for 26 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, we wrestle not against flesh and blood, merely, but " against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of tlie world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." "Wherefore," on this account, "take unto you the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand." There are two kinds of armor, of- fensive and defensive ; one to attack the foe, the other to protect ourselves. It is remarkable that but one weapon is mentioned by the Apostle as be- longing to the offensive kind, viz. : the sword ; all the rest are defensive. Among the Grecian warriors there were at least nine different weapons with which they assailed their ene- mies, yet the Apostle thinks that for the Christian this is enough. The Captain of our salvation has provided us with all that is necessary for the Christian warfare. Is our head exposed to the assaults of the devil? He has furnished us with a " helmet" to guard it; this is called, in another place, the hope of Saltation. This good hope prepares the soldier for the warfare, upholds him in it, and brings him off a conqueror. Is the heart liable to be pierced ? There is a breast- plate provided to protect it ; it is the breastplate of Itighteoasness ; this is a consciousness not only of his own sin- cerity, but also of his favorable ac- ceptance with God. He feels that he is honest in his profession of attach- ment to the Savior, and that Christ, his Captain, acknowledges him for a true soldier. The feet being exposed to injuries, a pair of brass boots are given to pro- tect them. It would not have an- swered any good j^urpose to protect the head, oftentimes, unless the feet likewise were provided for. If the feet were wounded, the soldier could not stand to fight the foe ; neither could he pursue him if conquered. The greaves simply prompt obedience to the Captain's commands; with this, rough places become as plain, and the crooked as strais^ht. ■-n ^-^ The girdle is given to keep the rest of the armor in its place, and to strength- en the loins. " Tnith " accomplishes this for the Christian soldier. By this he discovers loho are his enemies, their mode of attack, and the best way to resist them. A shield al so is provided ; it is called the shield of faith, by which he is able to quench all the fiery darts of the evil one. Finall}^, a sword is put into his hands ; with this he is to inflict deadly wounds on all his foes; it is called the Sword of the Spirit, be- cause the "Word of God was inspired by the Holy Spirit. "Wherewithal shall a 3'oung man cleanse his way but by taking heed thereto according to thy word ?" By the clear instruction, by the powerful motives, and by the glorious encouragement of the Word of God, the Christian soldier puts all his foes to flight. RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 27 MATTHEW, Chap, vi: verse 24. JAMES, Chap, iv: verse 4. MATTHEW, Chap, xix: verse 24. ISAIAH, Chap. Ixix: verse 6. PROVERBS, Chap, xxvi: verse 1. PSALM xlix: verse 12. JOHN", Chap, v: verse 44. 3IATTHEW, Chap xix : verse 17. THE STRAIT AXD :N'ARR0W GATE. Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it. 3Iatt. vii: 14. The gate contracted, here is brought to view, And narrow path that runs directly through. One there is seen, who strives witli all his might To pass the gate that leads to heavenly light; Strong drink, the deadly dram, is cast away, And on his knees, devout, begins to pray. Self-righteousness to enter next proceeds, Alas for him I how heavily he treads! His weary back a monstrous burden bears Of legal deeds, and unavailing prayers. He can not enter, for the gate is small; He must unload him, or not pass at all. Dives has fallen, gone quite off the track, And on the wicket gate has turned his back. Another, heedless of Jehovah's laws. Dreams he can enter with the world's applause: Honor and glory, pomp of things below, Can never through the straitened passage iro. Thus sinners all — to sensual pleasures given — Remain excluded from the gale of Heaven. The first object presented in the ' group is a reformed drunkard. See! he has thrown away strong drinks; he is determined to agonize — to enter in at the strait gate. Many tipplers seek to gain admission, but it will not do; over the gate is written, iu char- acters of living light, " Xo drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God." The next figure shows a man pro- fessedly in the strait and narrow way, but hehas such a large mass, or bun- dle of self-righteousn"ess on his back, it will be seen at the first glance that 28 EELICMOUS EMBLEMS. it is impossible for liim to get through the gate or passage. " All our right- eousness," which we may bring with us when seeking salvation, " are as filthy rags;" and the more we have of them, the more impossible it will be for us to enter the strait gate. Man, in order to be saved, must feel, himself to be a sinner ; he must feel his poverty, and like the man seen in the engraving, must get down on his knees, in order to enter into the gate of life. St. Paul, when a Pharisee, had a large load of self- righteousness, but when he became a Christian he dis- carded it; he desired to be found in Christ, saying, " not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith." Partly in the background is one who has fallen from the narrow way. This represents a lover of money ; one who has committed "guilts, great blunder," and who is now a laughing-stock for devils. They that will be rich fall into temptations and a snare, which drown men in perdition. 0, that men were wise! 0, that they would attend to the words of Christ : " Ye can not serve God and mammon ; verily it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God." The last depicted is one who is car- rying worldly honor and glory; who foolishly thinks he can love God and the world together. No man can serve two masters of opposite inter- est. " How," said Jesus, " can ye be saved who seek honor one of another, and not the honor which cometh from God only." Perhaps it was on one of those beau- tiful evenings of surpassing loveliness, seen only in the Holy Land, that the Blessed Redeemer delivered his unex- ampled lessons of benevolence and wisdom from the mount made sacred by his presence. Then Jesus opened his mouth and taught them, saying, " Enter ye in at the strait gate ; strait is the gate, and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it." By wdiich words the Savior would have us to understand the nature and requirements of Pe- ligion. Its nature — that it consists in a change of heart. Its requirements — that we do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with the Lord. Hence, by the " strait gate" we may learn that compliance with the first table of the Law is intended, viz. : Thou shalt love the Lord tliy God with all thy heart, with all thy sonl, with all thy mind, and with all thy strength. By the " narrow way," obedience to the demands of the sec- ond table is enjoined, viz, : Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself; or, as it is expressed by the Savior, more copiously, "Therefore, all things what- soever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them." As no man can love God, as required, without a change of heart, so neither can any one do unto others as he would they should do unto him unless he first love God; for " he that loveth nothi£ brother abideth in death." EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, 29 JOSHUA, Chap, xxiv : verse 15. 1 KINGS, Chap, xviii: verse 21. REYELATIONS Chap, iii: verse 15. JAMES, Chap, iv: verse 8. IIOMANS, Chap, vii : verse 19. GEXESIS, Chap, xlix: verse 4. 2 PETEE, Chap, ii: verses 9, 14. PROYEEBS. Chap, iv : verse 25. DOUBLE-MmDEDT^'ESS. Ye can not serve God and mammon. 31att. vi: 24.— minded man is unstable in all his ways. James i : 8. -A double- See the professor laboring, but in vain, The world and cross together to sustain; The globe is in his right hand dexterous found. His left the cross drags sluggish on the ground; In vain for him appears the narrow way. The world has led him from the path astray: In vain for him shines forth the heavenly light, The world has risen and obscured his sight; Two minds he has, both he may call his own, Sometimes they lead him up, and sometimes down; Like doubtful birds, that hop from spray to spray, His will is never at one certain stay : Too late he learns, with deep regret and pain. He loses both who more than one would gain. Here is seen a man staggering- under two heavy burdens; a globe, Avhich represents the world, and a cross, that represents the Christian religion. His knees totter, and tremble beneath the cumbrous load. The cross is the badge of his profession, which he holds, or rather drags along, with his left hand ; this shows that rclio;ion is only a sec- ondary concern with him. In his right hand he carries the globe. The right hand being the most dexterous, shows that the prac- tical part of his life is em])loyed in securing the world, notwithstanding his proifession. He has succeeded so well that the globe has got npperraost. ' It monopolizes his attention, and con- trols his movements. It has turned i his feet from the narrow way ; it ha:^ 30 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS liid from his view the glorious light of the heavenly city. In going down hill, the cross slips out of his left hand; he stumbles over it, and falls; the globe falls upon him, and grinds him to powder. This emblem needs but little illus- tration. It shows the folly and end of a double-minded man. The fabled Atlas, who carried the world on his shoulders, attempted nothing, accom- plished nothing, compared with the man who labors to secure both this world and the next; he has two souls, or minds, which govern him by turns ; but in the end the worldly principle prevails. His folly consists in trying to do what is in itself absolutely im- possible — what no man did or ever can do. God himself has separated the world from the cross; what God hath separated, no man m?y bring together ; the nature of the Gospel forbids such union. Its influences, doctrines, pre- cepts, objects, tendencies, and final issues are all opposed and contrary to the principles, maxims, practices, and interests of this world. In the Gospel, provision is made to renew the heart, and to enable man to set his affections on things above, not on thinos on the earth. The cross is as much as any man can carry, let him have as much grace as he will. If any doubt remains, Christ, the great Umpire of all disputed claims of this kind, has pronounced the decision : ^^ No man can serve tivo masters;" " Ye can not serve God and mammoii." The double-minded man is unstable in all his ways; sometimes he is seen among the disciples of Christ, then again he appears following the course of this world. He takes no comfort in religion, and none in the world. Every thing connected with him is double ; a double curse rests upon him wherever he goes. True Christians are ashamed of him; the ungodly despise him; he is a laughing-stock for devils ; his own conscience re- proaches him; his own family up- braids him ; and a double punishment will be the portion of his cup forever. The mad prophet Balaam is a re- markable instance of double-minded- ness. In profession, he would be a prophet of Jehovah ; in practice, he followed and "loved the wages of unrighteousness." Despised by the people of God, to whom he was a stumbling-block; despised and re- proached by Balak for his indecision, he died under the weight of a double curse, and left his name a proverb of reproach and shame. Choose you this day whom ye will serve. Joshua, xxiv : 15. How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, fol- low him; but if Baal, then follow him. 1 Kings, xviii: 21. I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot; I would thou, wert cold or hot. So, then, because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth. Rev. Hi: 15, 16. E E L I G I O U S EMBLEMS. 31 ROMANS, Chap, ii: verse 13. JAMES, Chap, i: verse 22. JOHN, Chap, xiii : verse 17. EZEA, Chap, vi; verse 3. PEOVERBS, Chap, x: verse 25. 1 COEIXTII'NS, Chap, iii: verse 11. EPHESIANS, Chap, ii : vez'se 20. JOB, Chap, xxii: verses 15, 16. THE HOUSE FOUNDED ON A ROCK. And the rain descended, and the floods came, and heat iipon that house, and it fell not ; for ii ivas founded upon a rock. 3Iatt. vii: 25. High on a rock, the wise man marks his plan, Its deep foundations closely ho would scan; Though gentle zephyrs breathe through summer skies, He knows that storms wide-wasting may arise; On solid bis? his building rises fair. And points its turrets through the ambient air. V/ith tranquil jov, his eyes delighted, greet The beauteous fvbric furnished and complete; In conscious safety raako^^ it his aboile, His duty done, he leaves the i-est with God. But soon dark clouds o'erspread the troubled sky, And soon is heard the voice of tempest high; Deep rolls the thunder, rains in torrents pour, And floods tumultuous beat with deafening roar. Floods, rain, nor thunder, nor rude tempest's shock. Can harm the house — 'tis founded on a Rock. Not so the simpleton who built on sand, And wrought his labor with penurious hand; 'Midst howling tempests, and loud thunder's roar, His house — it vanish'd, and was seen no more. A wise rnnn flo^irins^ to buihl a house for himself and family, sees many very pleasant and romantic l(tts ; he is tempted to choose a deliffhtfnl country is often visited M'ith violent srtorms, that hurricanes are frequent, and that the rivers frequently over- floAV their hanks, and sweep away situation, but he remcHibers that the bridges, houses, cattle, and inhabit- E E L I G I O U S EMBLEMS, ants, all together. This makes him cautious ; he sacrifices what is merely ornamental for what is useful and es- sential, lie fixes upon a rock for the site of his mansion. He builds in such a manner that his house looks like a part of the rock itself, it is so imbedded within its shelviugs. When all is snug and complete, he enters his new dwelling, thankful that he has been enabled to finish it. In a little while, one of those storms come on so common to the country; the rains descend, the winds blow, the floods beat against the house, but it stands unmoved. All night the tem- pest lasts; at length morning comes; the son of wisdom opens the door and goes forth, like Noah Avhen he left the ark after the waters of the deluge had abated. He looks around; all is de- solation except his own house. At a little distance from him he discovers some of the fragments of his neigh- bor's house. The foolish man had studied only ease and present con- venience; he chose a showy place, but the foundation was sandy. The hur- ricane swept them all away together. ^The house on the rock and its build- er, is an emblem (5f the man who hears the Word of God and keeps it. He makes the Word of God a ladder by which he climbs to heaven. Begin- ning at repentance, he goes on to feiith in our Lord Jesus Christ, then to holiness ; thus he mounts from faith to faith, till finally he reaches glory. Observe, it is not the person who hears, or understands, or remembers, or believes, merely, the Word of God ; but the Doer; that is, the prudent or wise man. He fastens on the Eock of Ages; Christ is his foundation, where, in obedience to the word, he has fled for refuge ; hence, he is pro- tected against all the storms of earth and hell. " To obey is better than sacrifice, to hearken than the fat of rams." The Word of God is compared to seed, which, if received in good ground, beareth much fruit. As the seed re- quires that the ground should be pre- pared, watered, weeded, etc., so the Word requires that it should be re- ceived with attention and nourished by meditation, much prayer, and faith. No one can enter the kingdom of heaven unless he is a disciple of Christ; but he is not a disciple unless he bringeth much fruit. He, and he alone, that doeth the will of God shall abide forever. A person having just returned from church, was met with the following exclamation: " What, is it all done!" "No, by no means." was the prompt reply ; " it is all said, but not all done" For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified. "Horn, ii: 13. But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only .... a doer of the work, this man shall be blessed in his deed. James, i: 22, 25. If ye know these things, happy are ye; ye do them. John, xiii: 17. KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 3a PROVEEBS, Chap, iii: verse 5. PROVERBS, Chap, xxviii: verse 26. 1 THESSAL'NS, 5 Chap, v: verse 3. p:roverbs, Chap xxix : verse 1. PEOVERBS, Cliap. vi : . verse 15. PROVERBS, Chap, xxviii: verses 14, 18. REVELATIONS Chap, iii: verse 17. 1 CORINTH'NS, Chap, x: verse 12 self-co¥Fide:n"ce. Seest thou a man vnse in his oum conceit? There is more hope of a fool than of him,. Prov. xxvi: 12. See how Self-confidence his friend doth treat, Nor heeds the danger from beneath his feet; With head erect, he proudly stalks along, The warning voice is but an idle song; As to the precipice he di'aws more nigh, His friend yet louder lifts his voice on high. But deaf and blind, he neither sees nor hears, From friends or foes lio nothing wants or fears; He "knows, and that's enough — all riglit," wlier, lo! At once he falls into the gulf >)elow: Adown the rocks he tumbles o"er and o'er, And sinks in darkness, to arise no more. The cno^ravinsr shows a traveler iti ' the greatest peril. He is on tlie hrink of an awful precipice: he knows it I not. Bat this is not the worst of his case: he is confident in his knowl- edge, and that he is fully prepared for every emergency, although he has not examined any book of roads, or any charts or maps; nor has he made in- quiries of others who have traveled 3 these parts before him. A friend is seen, who endeavors to apprise him of his danger; he calls to him, but he turns a deaf ear to his remonstrances, and still proceeds. As he draws near the fatal brink, his friend, knowing his danger, exerts himself to the ut- most to have him stop, to listen, but for one moment; but no, he has no need of advice; on he goes. Tho 34 RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. ground, wliich is hollow, gives way beneath his feet; he falls, and is in- stantly dashed to pieces. The name of the man is " Self-confidence." The moral of this is, that dangers stand thick all through the path of human life — dangers such as the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, with their numerous attendants. False doctrines also, the tendency of which is to destroy the liappiness of mankind, prevail. They are covered with a flimsy garb, which deceives superficial observers. Moreover, youth is presumptuous, self-willed, and self-conlident. They are too much inclined to follow the light which their own vanity lias kindled. But their self-confldence does not remove the dangers from their path, nor render them invulnerable. But man is ignorant, how shall he know? helpless, what shall he do? If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God. " Bo " ponder well the paths of thy feet. Lean not to thine own understanding. He that trusts to his own heart is a fool. In all thy ways, acknowledge God; lie will direct thy paths. Here, then, is the conclusion of the whole matter; imminent perils surround the youth, but the greatest of all perils is the danger of trusting to his own heart. Lean upon God, and all will be well. Though weak and ignorant, yet God is wise and strong, able to guide and preserve all those who trust in him. The mariner who should put to sea without chart or compass, trusting to his own knowledge, would, without doubt, on the flrst stormy night, re- pent heartily of his folly. O, how much greater is the folly of those who, trusting to self, neglect to use the lamp of God's truth, or to seek the enlightening influences of his Holy Spirit, or to follow the advice of the wise and good. The case of Pharaoh, the Egyptian monarch, affords a striking example of self-confidence. When the children of Israel had left the house of bond- age and were well on their journey toward the land of promise, the king, confiding in his strength, exclaimed, " I will pursue, I will overtake," and presumptuously set forth for that pur- pose. Each recently-received plague remonstrated, and forbade the rash- ness of the monarch, but all in vain. On he rushed, even to the division ol waters. In his self-confidence, he en- gaged in battle with Jehovah, God of Armies. The conflict was of short duration; the arm of the Lord pre- vailed; Pharaoh and his men of war were swept away with the waters of destruction. EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, 35 KCCLESIAST'S, Chap, xii: verse 7. MALACHI, Chap, iv: verse 4. JEREMIAH, Chap, xxxi : verse 35. PSALM xxvii : verse 1. ISAIAH, Chap, ix: verse 2. JOHN, Chap, viii : verse 12. EPHESIANS, Chap, v: verse 8. JOHN, Chap, iii : verses 19, 20 THE SUN OF TRUTH. Thy inord is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path. Ps. cxix: 105. The Lord God is a sun and shield. Fs. Ixxxiv: 11. Lo! on n path that throiish tlie nnuntains pwccps, I Till equcatorial o'er his head it hums, And climbs llicir summits, and descends their deeps, The Sun pours wide his bright diffusive rays, And sho^YS two travelers on their different ways; His shade behind, his pathway nlways bright, One travels forward with increasing light, .'ind all of shadow into day it turns; The other turns upon the sun his back, His lengthening shadow darkens all his tracft; Which now not seen, he turns him from the right, And ends his journey in the realms of night. See where, amona^ the mountain heights, a long straiglit path stretches itself till it is lost in the distance be- yond. The snn ponrs wide his rays of living light, illuminating the path, and shedd'iig hister all around. Two travelers are pursuing their different routes. One advances toward the sun ; his shadow is hohind.his path is bright before him. As he proceeds his shad- ow diminishes, while his path grows brighter and brighter, until, directly overhead, the sun pours the full tide of its glory upon him, and the whole of the shadow disa])poars. The oth(M' has turned his back upon the orb of day. See, he follows his own shad(nv. ' It darkens his pathway before him. Now he leaves the track ; his shadow lengthens more and more; 36 EELIGIOUS EMBL E:\rS, he wanders into sunken labyrinths, and finally loses himself amid the darkness of night. This emblem represents the moral world. The sun desi<»:nates the Sun of Truth. The travelers denote, first, those who follow the light; their path shines brighter and brighter unto the perfect day; their souls become en- lightened, vivified, and purified,' dark- ness disappears, and heavenly light shines on their souls forever. Sec- ondly, it signifies those who turn their backs on the light, and who, as they journey, wander further, and further from his bright beams ; their path be- comes darker and darker; their shad- ow lengthens as they proceed, until, having forsaken altogether the way of truth, they lose themselves among the wilds of error, and perish in the darkness of everlasting night. "Where shines the Sun of Truth? In the Holy Bible. The Scriptures are a "light" to the weary traveler, illuminating all his goings, pointing out his proper path, and showing where the mountains of error lift up their desolating heads. This Sun of Truth shines on the traveler himself. It discovers his ignorance, guilt, dan- ger, helplessness, and, at the same time, his immortality. Again it shines, and he beholds Calvary, with all its weeping tragedies. It reveals to him now his "wisdom, justification, sanc- tifieation, and redemption." Where shines the Sun of Truth? In the per- son of Jesus Christ. He who wisely uses the light of the Scriptures, will be led to contemplate Him who is the " Light of the world," " the Sun of Righteousness," " the Splendid Glory of Jehovah," " the Way, the Life, and the Truth." The Christian, following the light of the glorious Sun of Truth, discovers ever-opening mines of richest knowl- edge. Fountains of living waters roll their treasures at his feet. Trees of Life overhang his pathway, and drop into his lap their golden stores, till at length he beholds the opening gates of the Xew Jerusalem, Where Light and Truth, their mystic powers combine, And o'er the realms of Love forever shine. The infidel, turning his back upon the light, walks in the vain shadow of his own opinions. Darker, and yet more dark, the shadow grows; he waxes worse and worse; one truth after-another is given up, one lie after another is embraced ; further and farther he wanders from God and bliss, and finally he takes his fearful "leap in the dark," and finds himself, contrary to his expectations, in outer darkness, where there is weeping, and wailing, and woe. KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 37 JOHK, Chap, i: verses 4, 5, 9. PSALM xxvii : verse 1. PSALM xviii: verse 28. JOB, Chap. XX ix: verse 3. ISAIAH, Chap, xlii: verse 16. 2 SAMUEL, Chap, xxil: verse 29, ISAIAH, Chap. Iviii; verse 8. 2 COEINTH'NS, Chap iv : verse 6, LIGHT m DAPvXXESS. Urito the upright there ariseth h'r/ht in the darkvess. Ps. cxii: 4. Yea, though I walkthrough the ralley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art loith me. Ps. xxiii: 4. The faithful Christiau walks in darkest gloom, As though inclosed in some monastic tomb; And clouds of darkest niglit surround liis head; A pall, like tliat wliich canopies the dead; His path lies throupjh the palpable obscure, Nor can he yet discern an open door; Yet he's resolved to penetrate his way, Nor doubts but darkness will be turned to day: To Christ he prays, the light of mortals here; And Christ, the light of mortals, shines out clear, Full on his path, pours down the heavenly light. And on he goes with vigor and delight The ens^ravino: represents a Chris- tian walkino^ throiiirh a dark and ohadowy vale, wherein is no liffht; the mantel of darkness encircles liini, the pall of the grave has enfolded it- self aronnd him. Nevertheless, his path runs directly throngh it; lie knows not what dangers may lie in the midst; lie knows not when or j wliere the end may be. No chink, ontlet, or open door presents itself to him, yet he is determined to perse- vere ; it is the path of (hity. I Addressing himself to his work, he ' addresses himself also to his Master; he calls on Christ, whose he is, and whom he serves; the Savior shows his bright and glorious countenance; 38 11 E L I G I O U S EMBLEMS. the light of his glory falls full upon the traveler; the reflection irradiates his pathway, all is light. He goes on his way rejoicing in the Lord. Every Christian must at times pass through the valley of tribulation. Men- tal anxiety, sickness, loss of friends, poverty, persecution and death, with .many other things, make the materi- als of the valley of tribulation. The blessed Savior has said that all who live godly must pass through this val- ley. And again, through much trib- ulation ye must enter into the king- dom of Grod. And John the beloved, looking with wonder at the glory of some who were seen before the throne of God, was informed by the angel that they were those who had come out of great tribulation. But Christ is the light of the world, the Sun of Righteousness, the source from which all intellectual and spir- itual light is derived. Wherefore God our heavenly Father says to us, Awake thou that sleepest, arouse from the dead thou that dwellest among the tombs, and Christ shall give thee light. But to the Christian passing through the dark valley of trouble, he says: Arise, shine, thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen on thee. To the disciple of Jesus this light indeed belongs, and much he needs it in his pilgrimage. To him it is given by promise. To the upright ther& aris- eth light in darkness ; light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart. The light of knowl- edge, the light of consolation, the light of holiness, and the light of eternal glory are the Christian's inheritance, in and through Christ Jesus. With- out Christ all is darkness, wretched- ness, and death. With Him all is Light, Life, Love, and Peace. Stephen was a good man, yet he had to pass through the valley of trib- ulation. Perhaps he was more highly favored than any other man in similar circumstances; probably this was on account of his being the first Chris- tian martyr — the model for all suc- ceeding martyrs. He looked up through the clouds of persecution that surrounded him, and saw " the glory of God and Jesus;" he could not keep silent; "Behold," he cried, "I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing at the right hand of God." The glorious light shone in him, and through him, and around him; he looked as an angel of the Lord. In darkest shades, if lie appear, My dawning is begun ! He is my soul's sweet morning star, And he my rising sun. The opening heavens around me shine With beams of sacred bliss, While Jesus shows his heart is mine, And whispers, / am his ! My soul would leave this heavy clay, At that transporting word, Run up with joy the shining way. To embrace my dearest Lord. — WaiU. li ELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 1 JOHN, Chap ii: verses 15, 16. MATTHEW, Chap, xvi: verse 20. MATTHEW, Chap, xiii: verse 22. PSALM xxxix : verse 6. ECCLESIASTS, Chap, iv: verse 8. JEREML\H, Chap, ix: verse 23. 1 TIMOTHY, Chap, vi: verse 9. ECCLESIASTS, Chap, ii: verses 10, 11. THE WORLDLIIN-Q. He heapeth up riches, and knoweth not mho shall gather them. Ps. xxxix: 6, A rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven. Matt, xix: 23. AxD now, the worUlling, with his gathering rake, Performs his task, the glittering dust to take; Devoted man! with many cares oppressed, Gold he collects, to ease his aching breast. The fool's insigtiia he most truly bears, He bnt increases what he mostly fears: As dropsied patients, who with thirst are faint, Drink and are dry, andstren.^then their complaint. While in this groveling, melancholy plight. Religion comes, a messenger of light; Mercy's blest Angel has from heaven come down, She meets the worldling and presents her crown; "Behold," she cries, "the dindeni 1 bear, Enriched with gems such as luight Angels wenr; Yield then to me, first lay thy muck-rake down. Bear thy brow upward, and receive my crown." The worldling, stupid, toils and r.-ikes away; Still looking down, lie lakts from (hiy to day; Himself his foe lie lives, and greatly poor; And dies remembered as a fool — no more. The enofraving renreseDts a man hard at work; he hokh a rake in his hand, witli which he loyment. He kneels down to his work; tliis shows his devotion to the ohioct of his nffootions. For this rubbish tojrether. Tlio vollow shin- | irrovtOinGr work ho lias forsaken all inor i^jjc,!; is called ffold : he is alto- | intell(M-fnal nnd relijjions pleasures, gether absorbed, lost, as it were, in i all social and domestic happiness. He 40 BELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, is a poor man ; although he has a great deal of that hard shining dust you see lying there, he is craving after more; he is in want, therefore he is poor ; he is a miser, therefore he is miserable. The poor man is altogether beside him- self. The bright lovely one bearing a starry crown is Religion, daughter of the skies; she has many attendants, who are concealed at present ; she has come a long way to meet the poor man; she looks upon him with com- passion; she sees his miserable condi- tion, she knows his great folly. Ad- dressing him, she says: "Poor soul, \y\\j labor you for the dust which perisheth? Why do you spend your strength for naught? Hearken unto m.e and I will give you riches, more abundantly than 'earth can give, and lasting as eternity. Look up, poor man ; behold this crown, beautiful and glorious; it contains the riches of a million of such worlds as this, and the happiness of ages u[>on ages ; throw by your rake and be happy." Worldling, for that is the name of the infatuated mortal, takes no notice whatever. He still continues at his task; there is no voice nor any that regard. And Religion, after waiting a long time, departs and leaves him to his folly. They that will be ricli — though by means ever so fair — fall into tempta- tation and a snare, which drown men in perdition. Youth, beware! when men neglect to employ the talent of wealth according to the will of God, he gives them up to the love of it, and they become fools, intoxicated with the alcohol of mammon. The world- ling lives in the world" as though he was never to quit it. Bound for eter- nity, he makes no preparation for the voyage — going to the judgment, and before a holy God — and continues un- repentant and polluted. He is treas- uring up what? Gold. What else? Wrath against the day of wrath. The love of money, an evil disease, has taken hold upon him; the more he adds, the more he feeds the disease; like persons with the dropsy, who drink and are still dry. When Gar- rick, the actor, showed Dr. Johnson an estate he had lately purchased, Johnson remarked : " Ah ! it is these things that make death dreadful." But the love of money makes life misera])le. The Roman citizen, Api- cius, after spending some 800,000 pounds, and finding he was worth only 83,000 pomids, fearing want, ended his life by poison. _l)ut the Avorldlingheapeth up riches, and knows not loho will gather them. Cupidus, with great labor, accumu- lated a great estate, and dying, left his wealth to his two sons, Stultus and Effusio. Stultus had in a little time to be placed under guardians, who spent his money for their own pleasures. Eftusio squandered his patrimony in riotous living, and died a most miserable death in a lunatic asylum. KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 41 MATTHEW, Chap. X : verse 38. 1 COEINTH'NS Chap, i: verse 18. GALATIANS, Chap, vi: verse 14. PHILLIPP'NS, Chap, ii : verse 8. HEBREWS, Chap, xii : verse 2. 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, iii: verse 12. 2 COIIINTH'NS, Chap, iv: verse 9. v\;r..,iMn«*W' EOMANS, Chap, viii: verse 17. THE CROSS-BEARER. If any man vnll come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and folio lo me. Matt, xvi: 24. Dear reader, o'er this sacred emblem paiipe, And view the Christian bearing up his cross; Nor steep ^scent, nor roughness of the way, K'er makes him halt, or turtis his feet astray: Should he in weakness think to lay it down. Mis strength increases when he sees the crown; His soul enkindles at the glorious sight, Ilis yoke's more easy, and his cross more light. The Cross all hallowed, is the Christian's boast— His WATCHWORD, fighting at his arduous po8t — Ilis true innignia as he glides along. (Conspicuous, through the pleasure-loving throng; Ilis roj/nl passport, sanctioned by the skies, By which he triumphs, and secures the prize. Behold here the Christian bearing up maiifiillv under his cross. It is a. glorious sight. You see him going with his cross up the ditiicult moun- tain passes, as well as along the smooth and flowery plain. View the crown! It is seen in the distance. Sometimes the clouds gather nroutid it; in general, however, to the cross- 1 bearer the sky is clear; he can dia- C(-»ver the crown glittering in it.s beauty. The young Christian will know what this means spiritually. It is not of the Savior's cross, but of the Chris- tian's own proper cross that we now spcitk. What is it to bear the cross? To bear the cross always, is to do right 42 RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, always. It is no less than to fullill the high commands of the Savior, under all circumstances. It is to de- ny, control, and conquer self. It is to watch, pray, and by divine medi- tation have constant hold upon Christ. It is to glorify God before men by a holy walk and conversation; forgiv- iug enemies, loving all men, aiming to do them good bodily and spiritu- ally — in a word, it is to follow Christ as far as the disciple can follow his Lord, in piety toward God, in benev- olence toward man. When Peter ex- claimed, " I know not the man," he laid down his cross. When Paul de- clared, " I am ready, not to be bound ouly, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus," he ex- pressed his willingness to take up his cross, and his delight therein. The Christian's proper work is to bear the cross. This is his calling, his trade, or profession. It is the business of a watchmaker to make watches; it is the business of tlie •Christian to bear the cross as above, at home, abroad, in the shop, in the store, in the market-place, or in the iield. By reason of corruption within, of opposition without, of the malice of the wicked one, the burden is some- times a heavy one, but strength will increase by practice. He has mau}'^ discouragements, many solicitations to lay it aside. It sometimes presses heavily upon him, but the sight of the crown inspires him with fresh vigor, he glows, and bounds along the heavenly road. By the cross, i. e., by his conduct, the Christian is distinguished i'rom the lover of the Avorld. While ho bears the cross, the cross will bear him. It will guide him through labyrinths of darkness. As a shield, it will protect him in dan2;erous conflicts. Among the Romans, criminals about to be crucified, were compelled to bear their own cross to the place of exe- cution ; but the Christian bears his to the place of triumph. If it should prove at any time so heavy as to crush him down to death, as did Stephen's, like him he beholds the heavens opened, Ib.e King in his beauty, and the crown of celestial glory. He comes ofi' more than a conqueror. " 0, may I triuinpli so, when all my conflict's past, And dyingi find my latest foe under my feet at last." Who suffer with our Master here, We shall before his face appear, And by his side sit down; To patient faith the prize is sure; And all that to the end endure The cross shall wear the crown In hope of that ecstatic pause, Jesus, we now sustain the cross, And at thy footstool fall; Till thou our hidden life reveal, Till thou our ravisli'd spirits fill, And God i3 All in AIL EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, 43 ACTS, Chap, xii: voi'des 21, 22, 23. DANIEL, Chap, iv: verses 30-37. IIOSEA, Chap, iv: verse 7. PSALM xlix: verse 12. JOHN, Chap v : verse 44. 1 PETEE, Chap, i: verse 24. HABAKKUK. Chap, ii: verse 16. JOHN, Chap, ii: verse 16. WORLDLY HONOR. . . . the pride of life is not of the Father, bat is of the world. The world passefh aicay, and the last thereof. 1 John, ii: 16, 17. Man being in honor abideth not; he is like the beasts that perish. Ps. xlix: 12. Lo! bore are honors, floating in the breeze, Th;it wafts them changeful o'er the land and seas: The air-inflated bubbles puss along, Attract the gaze, and fascinate the throng; Away they go, pursuing and pursued, O'erle.-vp all bounds, the legal and the good; Through fields of fire, and seas of blood and woe, Through broken hearts, and blasted hopes they go- Oa zithers' «arcass, see! they strive to rise, And grasp the phantom that before them flies; In blood-red garb, the butchering-knife one bears, Nor friend, nor foe, if in his way, he spares. All this for what? For what this vast outlay? This sum infinite, squandered pvery day? Of those thus fool'd, some answer in despair, " We clasp d the iibantoms, and we fovnd them air." Not so the honors that from God descend, Substantial pure, and lasting without end. k This emblem is a representation of , Numbers are seen pressing after them the vain pursuits of mankind. Hon- j with all their mind and strength, and ors, titles, and fame are borne upon \ in their liaste to possess them, they the wings of the wind, which is ever sacrifice all that is good and holy, changing, as are the sources from | all that is benevolent and divine, whence worldly honors are derived. ' One, with his tongue, assails the 44 RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS character of the pious and the wise; another, with his pen dipped in s^all, attacks the reputation of a suspected rival; others, as seen in the emblem, hew down with the sword those who stand in their path, and, trampling on the bleeding body of the victim, strive to obtain the object of their de- sires; while the shrieks of the wound- ed, the groans of the dying, the tears of the widow, and the sobs of orphans seem onl}' to add wings to the speed of ambition. It often costs them much to enable them to accomplish their ends. They expend peace of conscience, ease, and often life itself. ISTay, the soul's sal- vation — the favor of God, eternal life, immortality in heaven, are exchanged for this empty nothing. The peace and happiness of others, of millions, with their lives, fortunes, and des- tinies, are thrown away for the same wortliless object. Perhaps the reader will say, "Sure- ly, a thing that costs so much must be valuable?" True wisdom con- demns such things as valueless, and true wisdom is justified of all her children. The little boy who left his satchel and his school to run after the rainbow, expecting to catch it, was a philosopher compared to the idiots in the picture. Alexander, called the " Great," bought the title of " Son of Jupiter" for the consideration of many lives of his followers, and enduring much fa- tigue while passing through burning and distant climes. After conquering mighty kings and Avarriors, he attain- ed the pinnacle of honor and fame, and adding to his own dominions the rest of the earth, he became master of the world, and then — he wept be- cause there were no n\ore worlds to conquer; and, at the age of thirty- two, died in a drunken fit, and was laid in a drunkard's grave. He left his extensive empire a legacy of de- solation to mankind. How different the honors which come from above! The Almighty Savior, Jesus, hath ascended up on high ; he hath received gifts for men — honors, titles, and fame — in abun- dance. The saints, who are the ex- cellent of the earth, God delighteth to honor. Angels are their body- guard, the Savior is their friend. He confers on them the title of " Suns of God," of " Kings and Priests," who shall possess a kingdom that shall en- dure forever. Their fame is immortal : the righteous shall be had in ever- lasting remembrance. The honors of earth come from in- constant mortals ; the honors which are spiritual flow from the unchange- able Jehovah. The honors of earth are sought by trampling on the rights of others; the honors of God are sought by the increase of human hap- piness. Earthly honors are unsatis- factory when obtained; the honors of God fill the soul with bliss. Earthly honors are transitory, like the source from whence they spring; the honors of heaven are abiding, like their Di- vine Author. IIELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 45 PHILLIPPI'NvS, Chap, iii: verse 20. HEBKEWS, Chap, x: verse 34. 1 PETEJR, Chap, i : verse 4. ACTS, Chap, vii : verse 55. MATTHEW, Chap, xiii: verse 43. 2 COEINTH'NS, Chap, v: verse 4. ■^;»>? PSALM Iv: verse 6. 1 PETER, Chap, i: verse 8. HEA^VE^LY DESIRE. For I am in a strait hetjoixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ ; lohich is far better. Phil, i : 23. Beiiolt) the Chi'istian where he doubtful stands, Fast bound to Friends by blooming roseate bands; lie feels the touch of love on earth below, And yet to heaven straightway would gladly go; For them, more needful longer here to stay, For him, far better thus to soar away. As when safe-anchored in some foreign bay, The ship of merchandise may proudly lay ; The Captain's cleared, with pnssport, to set sail, He longs for home, and courts the coming gale. The general interests of the firm demand His longer service in that far-off land; He fain would weigh, and homeward point his prow. Yet to Ins duty would submissive bow; Tliis done, he 11 trip, and loose the flowing sail, And homeward scud before the sounding gale. The engravino; represents an affec- tionate Father, who, though staiidi4ig on the worhl, and bound with the stronif cord of affection, vet ]ook3 upward, evidently longing to depart and be with Christ, which, as the Apostle says, is far better. Though he may feel this, yet oftentimes he feels strongly bound with the cords of love to remain with the objects of his affection here on the earth, to whom his stay at present seems need- ful, lie, however, does not consider this world as his abiding-place; he has it beneath his feet; he is looking upward, and Avaiting for his transla- tion to one above. Thus the Ciii'istian stands ready 46 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. prepared, and longs to depart and be with Christ ; but the interests of earth exercise an influence over liim and bind him down with the golden bands of atiectionate love. When a sinner becomes a saint, liis relations become changed, " old things have passed away. Behold all things have be- come new." A " new heart " is given, filled with love to God and man. A new world is presented full of glori- ous realities, substantial and eternal. A new^ God is given, Jehovah is his name. He formerly worshiped tlie gods of this world. A new Savior is embraced, who is the " altogether lovely." New companions, the no- blest, the wisest, and the best. He is the subject of another King, one Jesus ; the citizen of another city which is out of sight, whose Builder and Maker is God ; the heir of an in- heritance, which is incorruptible, un- defiled, and which fadeth not away. No wonder, then, if he should often- times desire to depart in order to pos- sess all this happiness. Wandering on earth, "here he has no abiding oity;" a stranger and pilgrim as all his fathers were. Nevertheless, he has interests, affections, and duties of an earthly kind ; these have a weighty claim upon him; they are connected with God and eternity. The religion of the Bible, while it strengthens the powers of the intellect, and sanctifies the. soul, does also increase the power of natural affection, and makes us capable of the most lively emotions. The true minister of the Gospel, like the great Apostle, would cheer- fully lay down his work and aw^ay to Jesus, but the interests of his master demand that he should stay, and build up the waste places of Jerusalem; therefore, he saj'S, "All the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change come." The pious parent, when visited by sickness, w^ould fain regard it as a call to heaven, but the dear pledges of love are weeping round the bed- side, and their youthful state demands a faithful guardian. He can only say, " I am in a strait betwixt two, hav- ing a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Never- theless, to al)ide in the flesh is more needful for you ; the will of the Lord be done." " How happy is the pilgrim's lot ! How free from every groveling thought, From worldly hope and fear ! Confined to neither court nor cell, His soul disdains on earth to dweU, He only sojourns here. "Nothing on earth T call my own: A stranger to the world, unknown, I all their wealth despise; I trample on their whole delight, And seek a country out of sight, A country in the skies." — Wesl^. li E L I G 1 O U S EMBLEMS.' PSALM Ixix: verses 15, 17 PSALM vi-: verse 4. PSALM Ixxi: verse 12. PHILLIPP'NS, Chap, ii : verses 12, 13. PSALM cxix: verse 155. PEOVEEBS, Chap, xi: verse 5. ISAIAH, Chap. V : verse 22. PEOVEEBS, Chap, xxix: verse 1. Escape for thy lift Ephes. ii: 2. Ses! where the fatal current, broad and deep, Rolls its swift waters down the awful steep; While from below the steaming clouds arise, And spread and mingle with the distant skies; Two men, behold ! near the tremendous verge, A moment sinks them 'neath the boiling surge, THE FATAL CITERENT. • Gen. xix: 17. The course of this loorld. One rows for life, be pulls •with all his strength, And from the danger well escapes at length: The other stops, lays in his oars to drink, While nearer drawing to the dreadful brink*; His jeers and taunts he still persists to throw. And sinks unaided down the gulf below. The enorravin2: shows the fatal cur- rent hurrying- on its rollin:^ Avaters to the dread abyss; see where the boil- ing cataract sends forth its cloudy vapors; like volumes of thick smoke, they rise and mingle with the sur- rounding- atmosphere. On the stream, and near the f:ital gulf, two men are seen in their frail barks. The one on the left hand, knowing his danger, pulls with all his might. Life is at stake ; he stems the current. By dint of mia-hty, persevering ettort, he es- capes the vortex, and gets beyond the reach of danger. The one on the right, careless and unconcerned, suffers his little boat to glide down the stream ; he dreams not of danger. See! he has laid in his oars, he is drowning thought hv drinking the intoxicating draught. He points the finger of scorn at his 43 » RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. more thou2rhtful and laborious com- panion. I^otwithstanding his uncon- cern, tlie stream bears him onward; nearer and nearer he draws toward the awful brink; on, and on he drifts, till all at once, over he goes, and sinks into the roarinof, boilins: srulf below. The above is an emblem of what follows: The gnlf, with its rising curling vapors, may represent the regions of the damned, where the smoke of their torment ascendeth up forever and ever. The fatal current signifies the " course of this world" leading there- into; the streams of sin that eventu- ally lead to the gates of death. The man on the left, rowing against tide, represents those who stem the tor- rents of sin, who oppose themselves to the course of this world, "• no longer fulfilling the lusts of the fiesli, nor of the mind." Eternal life is at stake; they agonize that they may prevail; they endure to the end, and are saved. The other, on the right, represents one who is indifferent about salvation, who indulges in sin and folly, and who even ridicules others who are striving to serve God. He endeavors to drown his conscience by drinking larger draughts of sin, and by plung- ing deeper into crime, till, carried onwarvl by the ruling powers of evil, he approaches the horrible gulf, into which he falls, and is lost forever. Dead fish may frequently be seen floating down with the tide. The live fish alone stem the torrent, and swim against the stream. So those dead in trespasses and in sins, follow the course of this world; they are borne unre- sistingly down tho fatal stream. But those who are alive spiritually, those whom God hath quickened, oppose the torrent, make headway against it, and, by divine assistance, work out their own salvation, full, and for- ever. The patriarch ISToah had, in his day, to swim against the stream. The floodgates of sin were opened; the turgid w^aters rolled down with fear- ful violence; truth and justice were well-nigh swe})t from the face of the earth. Manfully did he resist the de- scending torrent. Like a rock, he remained immovable, and opposed the overflowings of ungodliness. lie was preserved. God himself bore testimony to his righteousness. He was crowned with Divine approbation, and i)ermitted to see the Bow of Promise. At the same time, the multitude, neglecting to stem the tide, were borne away l)y the waves thereof, " down to the gulf of black des}»air." When wildly on rolls sin's broad tide To caverns of despair, May I be found on virtue's side, And meet it without fear. RELIGIOUS E ]\I B L E JI S 43 PSALM iii: verse 4. PSALM Ixxix : verse 9. 1 PETER, Chap, i: verses 5, 9. PSALM Ixii : verse 7. ROMAIs'S, Chap, x: verse 17 GALATIANS, Chap, v: verse 6. EPHESIANS, Chap, ii: verse 8. HEBREWS, Chap, xi: verse 6. SALVATION BY FAITH. Let not the water-flood overflow me, neither let the deep swalloio me up. Ps. Ixix: 15. He sent from above^ he took me, he drew me out of many waters. Fs. xviii: 16. The pleasures of a summer's day prevail, And tempt the youth to hoist the flowing sail: The river, placid, rolls its waves along. He glides exulting, like the notes of song; But soon a cloud, dark, brooding, mounts on high, A tempest threatens, soon it fills tlie sky; He strikes his sail, and plies the lab'ring oar, If haply he may reach the wished-for shore: Now booming thunders shake the solid ground, And angry lightnings fitful flame around: The raina, descending, now begin to lave, The winds come dancing o'er the rippling wave. The stream still bears him from the distant sliore. Appalled he hears the cataract's dreadful roar. To stay on board is death — he leaps. The wave Still beai-s him onward to the yawning grave. Just as he reaches the terrific brink, O'er which, if plunged, he must forever sink. The king from his fair palace hastens down — A king who wears far more than regal crown-. He saw his plight, nor feared tlie thunders' roar. He threw the rope and drew him safe on shore. A yoiins: man, tempted b}'' the de- lightful stillness of a summer's day, launches his little boat, and spreads his sail. The light winds spring up, and bear him some distance from the laud, but he regards it not; the scen- ery is lovely, the banks of the river are clad in the beautiful robes of the season ; all conspire to make him en- joy his sail. But his pleasure is short- lived; a storm arises, he strikes sail, and attempts to make the shore by 50 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS rowing, but he can not succeed. The eddying winds keep him in the mid- dle of the stream; he drifts down to the place where there is a tremendous cataract ; he hears the dreadful roar- ing thereof; his heart sinks within him. What shall he do? To stay in the boat is death; he can not swim if he leaps out, yet he thinks it is the best course. He jumps overboard; still he continues to drift toward the awful gulf. But just as he is going over, one comes to the rescue. The king, who had been watching him from his palace on the hill, hastens through the pelting storm down to the river-side, and, throwing him a rope, draws him safe to land. This emblem sets forth the glorious doctrine of Salvation by Faith. The drowning man represents the sinner in his sins. The fearful tempest — the anguish of his soul, occasioned by the terrors of God's violated Law. The forsaken boat — his self-righteous- ness. The King who flies to his help — the Lord Jesus Christ. Laying hold of the rope — Faith. His arrival on shore — Salvation. And as the indi- vidual rescued would most assuredly ascribe the merit of his deliverance to the prince upon the bank, and by no means to himself for seizing the rope, so every sinner saved by Faith will, despising self, give the glory of his salvation to Christ. As the rope con- nected the man dying in the waters with the man living on the land, so Faith unites the sinner to Christ. The jiower or ability to believe is the gift of God, but man is responsible for the use of the power. He must lay hold of the rope. God does not repent for man, neither does He be- lieve for him, yet man has nothing whereof to glor}'^. By grace he is saved through Faith, and that not of of himself. God worketh in him both to will and to do. " With pitying eyes the Prince of Peace Belield our helpless grief; He saw, and 0. amazing love! He ran to our relief " Down from the shining seats above, With joyful haste he fled, Enter'd the grave in mortal flesh, And dwelt among the dead. " 0, for this love, let rocks and hills Their lasting silence break. And all harmonious human tongues The Savior's praises speak. " Angels, assist our mighty joys, Strike loud your harps of gold; But when you raise your highest notes, His love can ne'er be told." EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 51 PEOYERBS, Chap, viii: verse 5. PEOVERBS, Chap, vi: verse 27. JOB, Chap, xxxix: verse 17. PEOVEEBS, Chap, ix: verse 4. PEOYERBS, Chap, vii: verse 7. PEOYERBS, Chap, x: verse 13. PEOYERBS, Chap, xvii: verse 18. PROYERBS, Chap, xxii: verse 15. SIMPLICITY, OR WAXT OF UNDERSTANDmG. Be not children in understanding. 1 Cor. xiv : 20. Deep in a meadow of rich verdure green, A simple child of beauteous form is seen; Pleased with the serpent's fascinating charms, She fondly takes it to her circling arms; Nor of the brilliant snake thinks aught of fear, Though death among its charms lies lurking there. But when the cricket's harmless form appears, She's much affrighted, and bursts forth in tears; Although its merry chirp no dangers bring, Nor in its homely shape e'er Tvears a sting. Just so the youth, deceived by beauty's form. Nor knows that roses always bear a thorn. Chooste then for mates alone the good and wise, And learn the homely never to despise. The engraving shows a little chikl, all alone in a field. In its simplicitv it fondles a deadly serpent; attracted by its brilliant and shining colors, the artless child takes hold of it without fear. She is about to take it to her bosom, when the cricket's merry chirp is heard ; she is startled. In a moment the lively insect, with one spring, Btands before her. Now she cries out for fear; she is greatly terrified. Thus, in her simplicity, she courts death, and embraces it ; while she is frightened' at homeliness, accompanied by inno- cence and song. This is an "emblem of the young and inexperienced. The term simple, or simplicity, has a twofold meaning in Scripture"! There are " the simple " whom " the Lord preserveth," and "the simple" who "pass on and are punished." In the first instance, it 52 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. signifies sincerity, innocence; in the second, folly, or want of understand- ing. It may, therefore, be applied to the young, and the inconsiderate of all ages, who, for want of knowledge and experience, act without consider- ing the consequences of their actions. The youth knows not how to judge of objects that present themselves be- fore him. Inexperienced, he knows not how to choose aright. He is in constant danger of putting evil for good, and good for evil; bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter. Hence, he needs the instruction of God's Holy Word to enable him to discern the things that are excellent ; to prove all things, and hold fast that which is good. Above all, he needs the en- lightening influences of the Holy Spirit to " give him understanding," and guide him into all truth. This want of understanding, more- over, displays itself in the wrong choice that is often made of com- panions; while the homely person, who may have much of wisdom and goodness, is rejected, the accomplished villain is selected as a bosom friend. The youth, deceived by his showy exterior and smooth tongue, unbosoms himself to him without reserve. The villain laughs at his simplicity, be- trays his confidence, and leads him into ruin irreparable. Hence, how necessary it is that the inexperienced youth should seek the counsel of the aged and the wise, and follow the godly admonitions of par- ents and guardians. This would save them many a false step, and much misery in after-life. Appearances are deceitful. The ignus-fatuus looks like a friendly light, but it betra3-8 the unwary traveler down to the secret chambers of death. Poisoned berries sometimes look like tempting grapes; ice, though it may seem firm, oftentimes breaks in, and plunges the rash youth into a watery grave; wine, when it giveth its color in the cup, at the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. It was when Eve saw that the tree was pleasant to the eyes, that she took of the fruit thereof, by which act she lost Eden, and brouglit death into our world, and all our woe. If, then, an act seem to be right, be sure it is so before you do it. If any thing appears to be good, be sure it is so before you touch it. If any of your acquaintance seem to be virtu- ous, be sure they are so ere you take them for bosom friends. " The simple pass on and are punished ; but he that trusteth in the Lord shall be deliv- ered." " Ye simple souls that stray Far from tlie paths of peace, That lonely, unfrequented way To life and happiness; Why will ye folly love, And throng the downward road, And hate the wisdom from above, And mock the sons of God ?" KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 53 PSALM XXV : verse 19. PSALM xxxviii: verse 19. ? TIMOTH. Chap, iii : verse 12. •JOHN, Chap. XV : verse 20. PSALM cix : verse 2. 2 CORINTH'XS, Chap, iv: verse 9. HEBEEWS, Chap, x: verse 32. PSALM cxviii : verse 11. THE PERSECUTED CHRISTIANS". My soul is among lions. Ps. Irii: 4. 0, that I had winqs like a dove! for then I would fly away and be at rest. Ps. Iv: 6. Lo ! where the Christian walks in sore distress, While various evils round about him press, Fierce persecution as a wild bull found, With rage he roars and tears the solid ground; The mean backbiter, like a snarling cur, Assails behind, his character to slur; Slander, grown bold, in form of wolf appears, flavening for prey, the innocent he tears: The adder envy lies along his path. And works in secret with its sting of death; Fraud, like the crocodile, now lays his snares. To catch the unsuspecting unawares; Oppression, outrage, is the lion mad, Wlien naught but blood his cruel heart can glad; For dove-like winijs the Tliristian prays, oppress' d. To fly to mansions of eternal rest. The engraving shows a poor man in great distress. Far from liome, and apparently unprotected, he is be- set with enemies on every side. lie knows not which way to turn. Be- hind, he fears the hellowing of the furious bull, maddened with rage, threatening to overtake and destroy him; while the dastard cur yelps after him, clo.'?e at his heels. Before him is the ferocious lion, gloating himself with the blood of his innocent victim; while the adder coils itself about his path, ready to pierce him with its deadly sting. On one hand is seen the hungry wolf, ravening for r''^J> on the other, the insidious crocodile, waiting to seize upon him, and drag 54 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, him down to his den of rushes. In this liopeless condition, lie longs for the wings of the dove which he sees flying over his head, for then he would escape them all ; he would fly away from the forest of wild heasts to the open wilderness ; there would he he at rest. This is an emblem of what the Christian oftentimes has to suiter while passing through this world to his eternal home. Sometimes perse- cution, like the mad bali and furious lion seen in the picture, rages, and threatens to destroy Christianity itself, and to blot out the remembrance of it from the earth. The prophet Daniel was thus assailed, and cast into a den of lions. The early Chris- tians wei'e subjected to ten flerce and bloody persecutions, which terminated not until the Church had lost its char- acter for holiness. In the short reign of the bloody Queen Mary (about Ave years), of fire- and-fagot memory, persecution in this form devoured 277 persons, among whom were 5 bishops, 21 clergymen, 8 gentlemen of fortune, 84 tradesmen, 100 husbandmen, 55 women, and 4 children. These were all burned alive, besides numerous conflscations, etc. Persecution, however, exists very frequently in a difterent form from the above. The backbiter plies his mean, cowardly trade, in order to in- jure the character of the righteous. The barkino;' snarl ino: cur is the most useless of the dog kind; so the back- biter is the most despicable among men. Yet is he able, oftentimes, to vex the soul of the pious. Sometimes slander, grown bold, like a hungry wolf, attacks the repu- tation of the man of God, as Shimel assailed David in the day of his ad- versity; or, like a hyena, it will ran- sack the grave, and defame the dead. This creature is considered the most ferocious and nntamable of all ani- mals. It follows the flocks, ravages the sheep-folds, and, when destitute of other provisions, will burrow into graves, and devour pu*rid human bodies that have long been buried. EiiX'y is knowm to plot in secret the destruction of that excellence she can not reach; vihW^ fraud takes advan- tage of the unsuspecting child of God, and seeks to draw him into sin and trouble. In the midst of his perse- cutions, the Christian would fain bor- row the wings of the dove, and seek refuge in some vast wilderness, "some boundless contiguity of shade," or, rather, the wings of some heavenly cherub; then would he fly to man- sions of eternal repose, "where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are forever at rest." " When rising floods my soul o'erflow. When sinks my heart in waves of woe, Jesus, thy liniely aid impart, And raise my head, and cheer my heart " If rough and stormy be the way, My strength proportion to my day, Till toil, and grief, and pain shall cease, Where all is calm, and joy, and peace." RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 55 2 CORmTH':N'S, Chap. V verse 4. ROMAICS, Chap, viii: verse 21. HEBREWS, Chaj). ii: verse 15. GALATIANS, Chaj). iv: verse 3. ACTS, Chap. XX : verse 23. JOHN, Chap, xvi; verse 33. JOB, Chap, xxiii; verse 3. PSALM cxlii : verse 7. THE SOUL m BONDAGE. 0, wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body of this death ? Bom. vii : 24. Horror of horrors! what a sight is here! Life linked with death, in terror and despair, Thus crtiel tyrants, when they won the field, Were wont to punish those compeli'd to yield. The wounded captive, writhing still with pain, Was made to wear the adamantine chain, That round the limbs of one new slain was led, And bound the living to the putrid dead, Till, cholced with stench, the lingering victim lay, And breathed in agony his life away. 'Tis thus the soul, enlighten'd by the word, Descries the path that upward leads to God; And fain would run, but feels a galling chain, That quickly drags him to the world again. Corruption's body opens to his eye, He sees the cause, but oh! he can not fly. Who, who? he asks, with trembling, struggling breath, Will save me from this fearful mass of death! He calls on Moses now to break his chain, Moses is deaf — he calls on him in vain; He calls on Jesus — wondrous name! — he hears, And breaks his chain, and scatters all bia fears. Now, like tJie bird that from its prison flies. On wings of love soars upward to the skies. This engraving represents the hor- rid custom of ancient tyrants, who, in order to strike terror into the hearts of their enemies, invented a mode of punishment more terrible than death itself. They chained the living prisoner to the body of a dead person. Virgil, referring to this mon- strous practice, says: "The tyrants inflicted a punishment hitherto un- heard of; they bound the living to the dead, limb to limb, and face to 56 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, face, until suffocated with the abom- inable stench; in loathsome embraces they gave up the ghost." This mode of torture was considered more ap- palling than that of burning alive, breaking upon the rack, or even cru- cifixion itself. It is, no doubt, to this custom that the Apostle Paul alludes in his Epis- tle to the Romans. No other image could so well illustrate his meaning. His readers were familiar with it. Peter, sleeping in tbe }yrison, bound with chains to the bodies of two live men, would not suit the apostle's pur- pose. It is very important that we try to make oat his meaning. I am brought, he says, into " captivity to the law of sin," and wounded, con- quered, and chained to this body of death. The soul is under the law or power of sin, and chained to a body of death — a mass of corruption. An evil heart, unholy passions, depraved affections predominate. The light of the Holy Spirit shines into the soul, and the man discovers that the law of God is holy, just, and good, and fain would keep it; that God himself is indeed altogether lovely, and he would acquaint himself with him. He now sees the path that leads to endless life, and he desires to walk in it. Bat vvben he would do good, evil is present with him; when he would approach the seat of Divine perfec- tions, something keeps him back; when he would walk in the path of life, he finds himself enchained. Now he follows the links of his chain, and discovers the body of corruption to which it is secured. He tries to free himself by some good things he did years ago ; this only makes the case worse. He calls on his friends for help ; but vain is the help of man. He calls upon Moses, he tries to reform his outward deportment; but by "the deeds of the law" he can not extricate him- self. At length, in the bitterness of his soul, he exclaims, " 0, wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from this body of death?" And now the angel of mercy directs him to the Breaker of chains, the Abolisher of death, the Conqueror of the grave, the glorious Giver of life and immor- tality — Jesus Emanuel, God with us. ■The Savior is propitious, deliverance is obtained, and the soul, like a bird escaped from the snare of the fowler, sings triumphantly : " What though I could not break my chain, Or e'er cast off my load, The things impossible to men, Are possible to God." " Love only can the conquest win, The strength of sin subdue, (Mine own unconquerable sin) And form my soul anew. "Faith, mighty Faith, the promise sees,' And looks to that alone; Laughs at impossibilities, And cries, ' It shall be done.'" EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 57 MATTHEW, Chap, xvi: verse 24. 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, ii: verse 3. EOMANS, Chap, viii: verse 13. LUKE, Chap, xii : verses 19," 20. AMOS, Chap, vi: verses 1-8. LUKE, Chap, xvi: verse 25. EPHESIANS, Chap, vi: verse 8. AMOS, Chap, v: verse 19. DAJTGER OF SELF-INDULGENCE. Ttiere is a way that seemeth right unto a man ; hut the end thereof are the ways of death. Prov. xvi: 25. With cheerful step, at blush of early day, The traveler began his arduous way ; He seeks at noon some pleasant, cool retreat, Where he may shelter from the noontide heat. But oh! beneath a tuft of flowery green, A poisonous serpent slily lurks unseen; With deadly aim he from his covert flies. The traveler, -wounded, in the forest dies. Thus some begin to run the Christian race, And for awhile keep up a steady pace; Till soft indulgence near their path lays wait, And spreads deceitfully her pleasing bait; O'ercome by sloth, to sin they fall a prey, And never more pursue the good old way. This engraving represents a trav- eler fatally bitten by a serpent. With a light heart and a itirra step he started on his journey at early dawn. Every thing looked lovely around him; he thought of nothing but success. He journeyed on very well until the hour of noon arrived, when he began to grow somewhat tired. He looked round for some cool, sequestered spot, where he might while away a few hours. At a little distance from the path, he discovered a pleasant, shady grove. For a moment he hesitated; but his love of ease prevailed. Now he forgets every thing except liis pres- ent convenience; he enters the grove; he is delighted with its cool air and agreeable fragrance. ' Suddenly he is bitten to the quick. 58 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS A serpent, concealed hitherto in the grass, fixes in his flesh its poisonons fang; the wound is mortal; his life's blood is poisoned ; fires intolerable course throuo'h his veins. He now repents of his folly ; he wishes he had borne the heat of the da}^ The venom reaches his heart; he thinks of home and friends; his spirits sink, his head swims, his eyes — they close in death. The leaves of autumn are strewn around him, and the place that knew him knows him now no more forever. This is an emblem of the danger of self-indulgence. "With alacrity and delight the convert sets out on his journey to the- kingdom of heaven. He anticipates the pleasures he will meet with on his arrival. He thinks not of the dangers of the road, nor of his own besetments. For awhile he makes rapid progress. By and by persecution and trouble come upon him ; he grows weary. He looks round for some other way, that has in it less of danger and difiiculty. Soon he discovers one apparently more easy and jjleasing to flesh and blood. For awhile he stands in doubt ; liis love of self-indulgence overcomes him. " He will not endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ." He enters the forbidden path. Now all seems pleasant and delightful. The pleasures of the road lull to sleep his spiritual senses. Sin, now like a serpent, assails him ; he has now no strength to resist ; he falls a victim to his folly; guilt and remorse now sting him to the quick. " Fool that I was," he exclaims. "0! that I had con- tinued in the path of duty." It is too late. "Wretched man, self-indul- gence has proved his ruin. The disobedient prophet fell a vic- tim to self-indulgence, when he turned aside to " eat bread and drink water," and a lion mot him by the way and slew him. The five foolish virgins, also, who '• slumbered and slept," when they ought to have been watch- ing, fell by the same insidious foe. They awoke in outer darkness, and found the door of the kine-dom of heaven fast closed against them for- ever. " If any man will be my disciple," said the Savior, " let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me." To them' who by 'patient continuance in well-doing seek for glory, and honor, and immortality, eternal life. " He that endureth to the end, th^same shall be saved." " Deny thjscif, and ialce thy cross, Is the Kedeenier's great command ! Nature must count her gold but drosa, If she would gain this heavenly land. " The fearful soul that tires and faints, And walks the ways of God no more, Is but esteem'd almost a saint, And makes his own destruction sure." Dr. Watts. EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, 59 PEOYERBS, Chap, vi: verse 9. PEOVERBS, ^^^^W Chap, x: verse 5. THESSALO'NS, Chap, v: verse 6, EPHESIANS, Chap. V : verse 14. THESSALO'NS, Chap, v: verse 3. ACTS, Chap, iii : verse 23. PSALM Ixxiii : verse IS. KOMA^^S, Chap, viii: verse G. CAHIsrAL SECUEITY. Surely thou didst set them in slippery places; thou castedst them down into destruction. Ps. Ixxiii: 18. See here portrayed, a gently-rising ground, With tulips gay, and blooming roses crowned; Where flowers of various hues, or gay, or fair, Mingle their sweetness with the balmy air; While woodland minstrels stoop upon the wing, Attune their notes, and softest carols sing; A youth lies sleeping on the roseate bed, Heedless of dangers, thus to ruin led ; A horrid gulf of thickest night is there. Where hope ne'er comes, but darkness and despair; A turn — a move — and in the gulf he'll roll. Where fiei'y billows prey upon the soul. It is by ascending " a gentl^'-rising ground," and not b\' overleaping the abrupt precipices, that the youth at- tains his dangerous position — his bad eminence. " Sin is first pleasin^ this conqiievr It inspired the soldiers with courage. The cross was seen inscribed on every banner. The em- peror led his army to triumphant victory. The Holy Scriptures are very pre- cious to him who has true faith. He regards them as the words of God — as a divine proclamation of grace to man; as a record of parental love, as a history of his dear Redeemer, and of his own redemption; as the title-deed of his own glorious inherit- ance; as the only rule of his faith and practice. With its sacred leaves open before him, he looks upward and prays, " 0, Lord, open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law." While some neglect and despise the Holy Book, and others depend upon human creeds and the musty traditions of "the Fathers, he exclaims, "O, how I love thy law. Thy statutes have been my songs in the house of my pilgrimage." By his faith in the cross, the Bible, the power of prayer, and the influ- ences of the Holy Spirit, the Chris- tian overcomes the world, enjoys com- munion with God, becomes meet to be a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light, and finally joins in the song of Moses and of the Lamb forever. Then embrace Religion, "and you shall be presently installed in the pos- session of the benefits and immuni- ties of the Redeemer's purchase with- out deduction, and without qualifica- tion ; you shall en^erge from under the dark shadows of the fall, into the ef- fulgence of the light, and the pleni- tude of the jo3% of a renovated, heaven- born nature; and the silent tide of oblivion shall instantly close foiever over all your past sins, and j'ou shall be immediately admitted into the circle of the redeemed of the Lord. " Your brow shall be encircled with a double diadem of life and righteous- ness; a patent to all the titles and il- lustrious dignities of the nobility of heaven shall be made out for you, which nothing in time or eternity shall alienate or rescind^ Paradise shall unlock for you its everlasting gates, and you shall behold the inter- minable future through a vista of the brightest hopes, and inherit a name immortal in the records of glory." RELIGIOUS EDIBLE .M S ^•5 PSALM cxlvi: verse 5. PEOYEEBS, Chap, xiv: verse 32. EOMAXS, Chap, v: verses 4, 5. EOMANS, Chap, viii: verse 24. COLOSSI AN S, Chap. 1: verse 5. 2 THESSAL'Na Chap, ii: verse 16. TITUS, Chap, ii: verse 13. EOMANS, Chap, v: verse 2. HOPE. Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stead- fast. Heb. vi: 19. For we are saved by hope. Horn, viii: 24. Ow Truth's substantial rock, Hope takes her seat, While waves tumultuous dash against her feet; The sky with blackness now becomes o'erspread; The tempest threatens her devoted head : Louder, and louder still, the thunders sound; The lightning flings its fearful glare around; Creation trembles ; but fast anchored there, Hope sits unshaken, never in despair; AVith eyes turned upward, whence her- help de- scends. She waits expecting, till the tempest ends. Hope is represented in the picture above as being seated upon a rock. Worldly hope has always some sup- posed foundation, on which it relies. But Christian hope has for a founda- tion the rock of truth, God's most holy Word. In the midst of gather- ing storms she is depicted looking up- ward ; this expresses her confidence in Crod. She leans upon an atichor; this denotes steadfastness and trust. Hope 5 was compared to an anchor, by ancient writers. Thus Socrates expresses him- self: " To ground hope on a false sup- position, is like trusting to a weak an- chor." The hope of heaven is represented by the Apostle Paul as the anchor of the soul. We see the propriety of this figure when we consider that the world is" like a tempestuous sea, full of dan- gers. The coarse of the child of God,. G(3 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, the voyage ; heaven, the port, or har- bor, which he expects and desires to gain. Sometimes, when a ship rides at anchor, dreadful storms arise, the wind blows with fury, the tempest howls, and waves roar and beat against the vessel. But if the ship be what is termed seaworthy, that is, firm, strong- ly put together ; if, at the same time, the cable be strong, and the anchor bites, or strikes its fluke deep into good- holding ground, all will be well. The fitorm may rage, rocks and quicksands may lie to leeward, threatening de- struction, yet will she be secure. It is true, she will have to send down her topmasts and yards, and keep an- chor-watch, yet will she ride out the gale. By this we may see the proper use of hope to the Christian, which is to keep the soul calm and secure in the day of adversity. Hope does not re- move trouble; it sustains the soul in the time of trouble. The anchor does not dispel the storm ; it does not quiet the roaring waves, arrest the rolling thunder, nor bid the winds be still ; but it enables the vessel to ride out the fury of the gale ; it keeps her from being driven on the rocks of death. The most pious Christian does not find himself exempt from the cares and ca- lamities of this life, or free from the conflicts and difiicultics of the Chris- tian life. He often finds himself "tossed .upon life's raging billows," but under these circumstances the hope of heaven, as the anchor of the soul, keeps him steady. " "Which hope we have," says the apostle, " as an anchor to the soul, both sure and steadfast." This hope preserves him from being dashed to pieces against the rocks of temptation, destruction, and despair ; it at the same time im- parts a delightful sense of security in the day of trial, a blessed sense of peace amid a sea of troubles. It in- spires fortitude and boldness in the cause of God. " Hope maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us." Among the Arabians, the water- melon is known by the name of " hatech" which in the Hebrew lan- guage signifies hope. The melon, by its tendrils, clings to whatever it can lay hold of. Just so hope; the Chris- tian's hope clings to God, his prom- ises, his faithfulness, his love. "The water-melon is cultivated on the banks of the river Kile," says a traveler. "It serves the Eg^'ptians for meat, drink, and medicine. It is eaten in abundance by even the richer sort of people, but the poor scarcely eat any thing but these," This affords a good illustration, AVhat, indeed, would life be without hope ? " Man never is, but always to be blest." Take away hope, and yon take away the enjoyment of prosperity ; deprive man of hope, and you take away the only support and solace of adversity. The most happy, the most prosperous, without hope would soon become the most wretched. The poor and afflicted, without it, would sink at once into the gulf of despair. To deprive man of hope, is to rob him of his dearest treas- ure Extinguish hope, and you extin- guish life, for who could live without hope? It is the last lingering light of the human breast, " It shines when every other is put out. Quench it, and the gloom of affliction becomes the very blackness of darkness — cheer- less and impenetrable." KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 67 1 PETER, Chap, iii : verse 8. JOHX, Chap, xiii; verse 35. COLOSSIANS, Chap, iii: verses 11, 12, MATTHEW, Chap, xviii : verses 21, 22. THESSALO'NS, Chap, v: verse 14. 2 PETEK, Chap, i: verse 7. 2 COPJNTH'NS, Chap, xiii : verse 11. PHILLIPPI'NS, Chap, iv : verse 8. BROTHERLY KINDNESS. Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Gal. vi: 2. Lo! the poor pilgrim bends beneath his load, And travels wearily his length'ning road; Contempt' s vast weight, back'd by afflictions sore, Incline him now to give his journey o'er; With groaning sick, with labor faint, he stops, And on the pathway tottering, almost drops: But ere he prostrate falls, relief is near, Two brethren of the Cliristian band appear; Their cheerful aid they speedily impart, To ease his burden, and relieve his heart; His willing shoulder each one runs to lend, And on he travels to his journey's end. Look at the poor pilgrim. Awhile ago he was bending beneath his bur- den, unaided, unpitied, and alone. Almost pressed to the earth, he would fain have given his journey over. His heart was sick within him; his bones were wearied; he thought he would lay him down and die. But before he sunk under the pressure, he saw two friends coming toward him. He endeavors now to hold out a little longer. Presently they arrive, and give him a friendly salutation. They do not, like the Lecife, pass by on the other side ; at once they hasten to his relief; each one puts his shoulder to the burden. Now it is lighter; the poor man draws breath ; they encour- age him with kind words, but still more with their efficient help. Nor do they leave him until he arrives at the end of his journey. 68 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. This is a good emblem of Brotherly Kindness. The burdened pilgrim rep- resents the Christian traveling on in the way of duty, bearing affliction and contempt. Afflictions such as are common to men press heavily upon him ; contempt and tribulation, pecu- liar to those who will live godly in Christ Jesus, almost overwhelm him. His soul is among lions; he is ready to sink beneath his burden. His head is sick, his heart is faint. He says, " I shall one day fall by my enemies ; I ma}" as well give up first as last." Just now some Christian brethren — signified by the pilgrim's two friends above — hearing of his circumstances, call upon him, find out his trouble, and immediately propose to help him. They furnish him with pecuniary aid, assist him with their prayers and coun- sel, and being disciples of Jesus, they resolve to bear a part of the reproach of Christ. They unite with their af- flicted brother in stemming the tor- rent of wickedness that runs down the streets, and in advancing the kingdom of God on the earth. All this sympathy and aid makes a new man of him; he again lifts up his head, and goes on his way rejoicing. The blessed Redeemer established his cross on the earth as the rallying point for all hearts, that being soft- ened there by divine love they might be united to God, and that being di- vested there of all selfishness they might be united to each other in the bonds of a holy, loving brotherhood. "A new commandment," said the Savior, "give I unto you, that ye love one another." Hence the words of the apostle, '■'■Bear ye one cmothefs burdens, and so fulfill the law oj Christ:' Even under the Jewish dispensa- tion it was ordained that " if thou see the ass of him that hateth thee lying under his burden, thou shalt surely help him." How much better is a man than a beast! and compared with the Jews, how much more power- ful is the weight of the Christian's obligation ! Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love, The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above. We share our mutual woes; Our mutual burdens bear; And often for each other flows The sympathizing tear. Before our Father's throne We pour our ardent prayers ; Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one, Our comforts and our cares. Fawcett EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 69 PSALM Ixxxix : verse 14. GALATIAKS, Chap, iii: verse 10. ACTS, Chap, xvii; verse 31. jSCCLESIAST'S, Chap, xii: verse 14. EOMANS, Chap, iii: verse 20. GALATIANS, Chap, iii: verse 13. 1 PETEE, Chap, ii : verse 24. COEIJS^TH'NS, Chap. XV : verse 3. DIVINE LOVE AND JUSTICE. Without shedding of blood there is no remission. Horn, ix : 22. We have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sin. Col. i: 14. Behold where Justice, with her sword raised high, In words that echo through the trembling sky. Demands, in virtue of the Law's just right, That man should perish in eternal night. Pale, trembling, fearful, see the culprit stand. Nor dares to hope deliverance at hand. On wihgs of grace, and heavenly motion fleet, Love hastens, prostrate at the claimant's feet. " Me! me behold!" she cries, "on me be pour'd The wrathful vial that for him is stored. Here, in this heart, plunge deep th' avenging blade. My life for his! so Justice shall be paid." "T is done ! the sword is bathed in spotless blood, And man, released, returns to life — and God. In this picture, Justice is seen standing with her sword raised high, ready to fall upon the guilty one. In her left hand she holds the scales of equity; at her side the two tables of law a-ppear. at the foot of which lies the Iloly Bible. In the front of Justice one is seen in the attitude of a culprit; he hangs his head down in acknowledgment of his guilt. Be- tween the offender and Justice, be- hold one of celestial mien, in a kneel- ing posture, with wings outspread; her countenance beams with compas- 70 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. sion ; addressing Justice, she points to her uncovered bosom, and asks that the sword may be plunged there- in, and that the guilty one may go free. This is Divine Love. This is an emblem of human re- demption. A book of laws is given to man, which is holy, just, and good, the substance of which is contained in the decalos^ue or ten command- ments. These laws, whether engraved on tables of stone, or written on rolls of parchment, or printed in books, or impressed on the human heart, have been violated by all mankind, for "all have sinned," and consequently have come short of the divine approbation. The penalty is "death." "The soul that sinneth, it shall die." Thus the matter stands when the sinner is brouo^ht before the tribunal of Jus- tice. Justice never forgives, nor makes any allowance for circumstances or human infirmity. The plea put in by Lord Nelson when dying, that " he had not been a very great sin- ner," will be utterly unavailing. The reply of Justice is, " He that offends in one point, is guilty of all." But ere the sword of Justice is bathed in the blood of the guilty, Di- vine Love, in the person of Jesus Christ, interi^osed, " and poured out bis soul unto death, and made inter- cession for the transgressors." On the hill of Calvary, this wonderful scene took place. There Divine Love received the sword of Justice; there [ the heart of the Son of God bled for guilty man ; there he " who knew no sin became a sin-offering for us." Mercy and Truth now meet together, Justice and Peace kiss each other. " Greater love than this hath no man, that a man lay down his life for his friends ; but God commendeth his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us." Shout, heaven and earth, this sum of God to man, that God can now be just, and the justiHer of him who believes in Jesus. " Infinite grace! Almighty charms! Stand in amaze, ye rolling skies! Jesus the God extends liis arms, Hangs on a cross of love, and dies I " Did pity ever stoop so low, Dress'd in divinity and blood? Was ever rebel courted so. In groans of an expiring God? " Again he lives, and spreads his hands — Hands that were nail'd with torturing smart, By these dear wounds! he looks and stands, And prays to clasp me to his heart." Five bleeding wounds he bears, Received on Calvary ; They pour etfectual prayers. They strongly speak for me: Forgive him, O, forgive, they cry, Kor let that ransom'd sinner die. He ever lives above. For me to intercede; His all-redeeming love, His precious blood to plead His blood atoned for all our race. And sprinkles now the throne of grace. EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, 71 BFHESIANS, Chap, ii: verse 16. COLOSSIANS, Chap, i : verse 20. 1 COKINTH'NS, Chap, x: verse 16. .HEBREWS, Chap, ix: verse 12. JOHN, Chap, xvii: verse 21. ROMANS, Chap, v: verse 10. HEBREWS, il Chap, ii: verse 11. -- ..~.^,JE-_:^^ — -,i:^^^•o - HEBREWS, Chap, ii: verse 17. RECONCILIATION. And all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ God was in Christ, reconciling the icorld unto himself . ... Be ye reconciled to God. 2 Cor. v: 18, 19, 20. Between the bleeding victim, cut in twain, Two, oiice at variance, meet, at one again; Gladly the hand of fellowship impart. And pledge the honor of a faithful heart, And by the God of life and death agree The past to bury in oblivion's sea; They vow each other's interest to befriend, And when in need, to succor and defend. And as the parted victim lies in death. So they adjudge who breaks his solemn oatb. This engraving represents two men standing between the two parts of a divided calf. They have been for a long time enemies to each other. Now Ihey earnestly desire to become friends again; they wish to bury all past differences in the ocean of for- getful ness, and to enter into an agree- ment mutually to assist and defend each other in time to come. To ac- complish this object, they have met together. As a proof of their sincer- ity, they offer a sacrifice to the object of their religious adoration. The blood of the victim is poured out, the animal is divided into two equal parts. The parts are placed opposite to each other, space enough being left for the parties to enter between. When this is done, they meet in the middle of the divided beast, where the con- tract is read or repeated, and by a sol- 72 llELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. emn oath sanctioned and confirmed. This was an ancient and almost uni- versal mode of making contracts. It is referred to by Jeremiah the prophet : "And I will deliver up the men that have transsrressed mv covenant, which have not performed the words of the covenant which they had made be- fore me, when they cut the calf in twain, and passed through the parts thereof." The above is a si2:nificant emblem of that reconciliation which is pro- claimed by the everlasting Gospel. The holy God and sinful man consti- tute the parties. Man had, by his sins, separated himself from God, and had, in fact, become an " enemy." God, the offended party, proclaims a truce, and proposes a reconciliation. The place of meeting was Mount Cal- vary. There Mercy and Truth met together, Justice and Peace embraced each other ; the victim, the Lord Jesus (Jhrist. Without shedding of blood there is no forgiveness, and without forgiveness there is no reconciliation ; but " God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself," and " Christ is our peace, who hath made both one." The terms of the covenant are : " He that believeth shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be damned." On this ground, i. e., ^^ in Christ," God has sworn to receive to friend- ship all who come to him. Here he opens his heart of love ; here he be- stows more than kingly dignities; here the kingdom of grace is exhib- ited, and the splendors of the king- dom of glory shadowed forth. But for these " who count the blood of the covenant a;i unholy thing, there re- maineth no more sacrifice for sin, but a certain fearful looking for of fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries." The reconciliation of a soul to God is perhaps the greatest event that can come to pass on the earth. It affects three worlds: heaven, earth, and hell. When this takes place, angels, in their flights of mercy, passing over fields of renown, where empires are won and lost, stoop upon the wing, and stringing their harps to a loftier mel- ody, they sing the anthem of all-re- deeming love, " Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, and good- will toward man." God, the offended God Most High, Embassadors to rebels sends; His messengers his place supply, And Jesus begs us to be friends. Us in the stead of Christ, they pray, Us in the stead of God entreat, To cast our arms, our sins away, And find forgiveness at his feet. Our God in Christ! thine embassy, And pvoffer'd nuercy we embrace, And gladly reconciled to thee, Thy condescending mercy praise. Wesley. EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 73 1 JOHK, Chap, iii: verses 1, 2. ^^^g EPHESIAKS, Chap, ii: verse 13. '''VVWiVW(?!»i KEVELATIOIS", Chap, i : verse 6. ' MAEK, Chap, iii : verse 35. MATTHEW, Chap. XXV : verse 40. EEVELATION, Chap, iii: verse 21. JOHN, Chap, xiv: verse 19. 1 COEINTH'NS, Chaj). iii : verse 23. ADOPTION. That v)e might receive the adoption of sons .... and if a son, then an heir of God. Gal. iv: 5, 7. See here the king, in regal splendor clad, Comes forth to meet the ragged, friendless lad; Attended by his sons, a princely race, He comes to manifest his royal grace: In one hand, see! he bears a crown of light. And with the other takes the hapless wight, And up the steps he leads him, pale with dread. And sets the diadem upon his head. His rags removed, with regal robes he's dress'd. And o'er his shoulders thrown the purple vest. The royal youths look on with mute surprise. While pleasure dances in their generous eyes; The imperial gates on golden hinges swing, And crowds advance, and hail the uew-made king. A monarcli is here seen standing arrayed in his robes of state, and crown of glittering gems. He has left his guests within the pahace ; he has come forth ; he holds in his hand a crown of purest gold. On the steps he meets a poor, ragged boy; he in- tends to make him an object of hia especial favor. lie takes him kindly by the hand, and leads him up the steps. The poor boy trembles; he is greatly afraid. The king places the crown upon his brow; he commands that royal robes be brought forthwith, ■to clothe him withal. ^loreover, he orders that proclamation be made, an- nouncing that he is received among the princes of the realm. Some of the kinij's sons are seen standing behind. They look on with 74 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS wonder, but not with jealousy. They appear delighted at what they see; they embrace him as a brother. The news reaches the inside of the palace; the inmates hasten out to congratu- Jate the new-made king. He returns 'with them and takes his seat at the banquet, amid strains of music and the voice of song. This is an emblem of Adoption. The king represents the Almighty ^Father, King of heaven and earth. The king's sons signify the angels, who have never sinned. The boy in rags represents the sinner, man. The sinner, "wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked," is driven by the storms of guilt and anguish that beat upon him, to seek a place of refuge. " AYhither shall I flee?" he asks, in the agony of his soul. He resolves, " I will arise and go to my Father." Thus, in all his misery, he presents himself before the King, Jehovah. Whereas the king is seen coming forth from his palace, and taking the poor boy by the hand; this is to show how willingly God receives the poor penitent who comes to him in the name of the Mediator. When he was yet a great way off, he saw him, and had compassion on him. He takes him by the hand, saying, " Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out." He places a crown on his head, that is, he adopts him as his own son; he makes him an heir of his eternal glory. Kow he has a childlike confidence in God as his Father, God having sent forth the Spirit of his Son into his heart, crying, Abba, Father. He takes his place among the children of God, lost in wonder, love, and praise. " Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed on us, that we should be called the sons of God." The angels, those elder sons of the Almighty, gladly welcome the adopted to their number; they receive him as one that was lost, and is found, that was dead, and is alive again, and henceforth minister to him as an heii* of salvation. Not all the nobles of the earth, Who boast the honors of their birth, Such real dignity can claim, As those that bear the Christian name. To them the privilege is given To be the sons and heirs of heaven ; Sons of the God who reigns on high, And heirs of joy beyond the sky. On them, a happy, chosen race. Their Father pours his richest grace; To them his counsels he imparts, And stamps his image on their hearts. Dr. S. iSienneit. KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 75 LUKE, Chap, xviii: verses 11, 12. MATTHEW, Chap, vi: verse 2. MATTHEW, Chap, vi: verse 16. i TIMOTHY, Chap, iii: verse 6. OBADIAH, Chap, i: verse 3. EEVELATION, Chap, iii: verse 17. m DAi^nEL, Chap, iv: vei'se 30. 1 COEINTH'ISTS, Chap, viii: verse 1. SPIRITUAL PRIDE. For they loved the 'praise of men, more than the praise of God. John, xii: 43. See where the Pharisee inflated stands, And sounds his praise abroad to distant lands; Himself his trumpeter, he blows, not faint, That all may hear, and own him for a saint; His lengthen'd notes in sonorous accents say, " 1 do-~I think — I give — I fast — I pray!" No bankrupt he, for lo! to feed his pride. See bale on bale, close pack'd, stand by his side. The beggar comes, worn down with grief, and old: He's soon discharged, for Pride has little gold. He doles his pittance into miserj^'s hat. And loud applause he asks, in full for that. The gaudy peacock strutting in the rear, Is but a figure of this trumpeter; It struts, and swells, and spreads its plumes abroad: So he, absorb' d in self, forgets his God. This engraving represents a man who appears to be on very respectable terms with himself. He is sounding a trumpet before him; he is very anxious that everybody should know when he performs wliat he conceives to be a good action. A poor man is asking charity ; he never refuses a trifle, provided he has his trumpet with him. Up it goes, and with a long blast, he calls the distant pas- sengers to behold him. At the side of the trumpeter are seen several bales of goods; these are his stock in trade. Behind, is seen the peacock, strutting, swelling, and displaying his brilliant train. A proper emblem of this proud trumpeter. The above cut is an emblem of Spiritual Pride. The trumpeter, giv- 76 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. iug a little small change to the beg- gar, and apprising every body of the fact, denotes one who loves to make a parade of his religious performances. Does he give to benevolent objects? It is that he may receive the praise of men. Does he fast, or pray, or worship? It is that he "may be seen of men." On the house-top, through the newspapers, and other sources of circulation, he proclaims his good deeds. He conjugates all his verbs in the first person only: "I visited," " I preached," " I prayed," " I gave," etc. Thus the praise of worms becomes necessary to his ex- istence; on this food he grows fat. Deprive him of it, and he will pine away, and die of atrophy. He sacri- fices to his own net; he burns incense to his own drag. Self is the god he iadores. The "bales of goods" de- note that he is well-stocked with self- righteousness. In his own opinion, he is "rich and increased in goods, and has need of nothing." The pea- cock, after all, has just as much re- ligion as he has. The hypocritical Pharisees of the Savior's time were men of this stamp. They sounded a trumpet before them under pretense of calling the poor to- gether; but in reality it was to say, " Look at me." They had " their re- ward." In the East the practice varies. It is said that the dervishes, a kind of religious beggars, carry with them a horn, which, when receiving alms, they blow in honor of the giver. All pridd" is pretty much alike in its nature and eft'ects. It is produced in some persons by noble birth, and great natural abilities. In others, by wealth and learning. In others again, by certain ecclesiastical endowments, such as an office in the church, the gift of praying, or of preaching, etc. These things are all alike good in themselves, but the hearts of the pos- sessors, being unsanctified, the gifts are abused, and the Giver neglected. He who possesses true religion will be truly-humble. Humility is the only proper antidote for pride. When hu- mility enters, pride departs, as flies the darkness from the sun. To slay pride, and teach man humility by example, the blessed Savior took upon him the form of a servant. He made himself of no reputation ; he humbled himself unto death, yea, even unto the death of the cross. O, wonderful humility ! 0, boundless grace ! Pride renders its possessor truly miserable in this life. The Father of spirits alone can fill an immortal spirit. The man of pride rejects the blessed God, and depends for happi- ness on the applause of man. This is uncertain, unsatisfying, and transi- tory. Witness the case of Haman, who, notwithstanding " the glory of his riches," " the multitude of his children," and his princely prefer- ments, was ^ruly wretched. "All this availed him nothing," so long as his voracious pride went without its accustomed fee — so long as one man refused to bring his tribute of hom- age. But pride will render its posses- sor miserable to all eternity. "How can ye be saved who seek honor one of another, and not the honor that cometh from God only?" EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 77 MATTHEW, Chap, xxii: verse 18. LUKE, Chap, xi : verse 39. MATTHEW, Chap, xxiii: verse 27. ' LUKE, Chap. XX : verses 46, 47. JOB, Chap, viii: verses 13, 14. ISAIAH, Chap. Iviii; verses 2, 3. MATTHEW, Chap, xxiii: verse 5. fi^iTilii^'^t^^.!;?..''.^:-^ JOB, Chap, xxvii: verse 8. HYPOCRISY. Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing ; but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Matt, vii : 15. See in the distance, there, those harmless sheep; Nor watch or ward at any time they keep; Well pleased, along the pastures green they tread, And unsuspecting crop the flowery mead : The shepherd slumbers in the noontide's shade, His flock forsaken, and his trust betrayed. The wolf draws near, in sheepskin shrewdly dressed, He bleats aloud, and mixes with the rest; They prick their ears, and look with some sur- prise. But can 't detect him in his deep disguise. He marks his time; when they are all asleep. He slays the lambs, and tears the silly sheep. Thus all false teachers are on ruin^bent, And by Apollj-on on their mission sent; Without, the clothing of Christ's flock they wear, Within, the heart of ravening wolves they bear. The engraving shows a wolf in disguise, and a flock of sheep in the background. The shepherd is absent from his charge; the sheep wander on, without any to control their move- ments. The green pastures and ver- dant meadows afford them plenty of employment. Innocent themselves, they suspect no danger. But the wolf comes; he comes, too, in deep dis- guise, not in his true character; not as a wolf, but as a sheep. The flocks are deceived; he mingles with them; he marks his time. First one strag- gler, and now another, fall victims to his tooth of blood. At length, in an unguarded moment, he kills all the lambs, and tears and worries the en- 78 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS tire flock. But tbiuk not that the ravening wolf escapes without pun- ishment. No; the owner of the flock sees what has been done; he discov- ers the enemy, and kills him. He leaves his carcass on the ground, a warning to all wolves in sheep's cloth- ing. In comparing small things with great, the Savior compared the folse prophets, or teachers, to a wolf in sheep's clothing. " Beware," said he, " of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing; but inwardly they are ravening wolves." Hypocrisy con- sists in acting a part or character not our own. There are hypocrites in all professions, and a great deal of hypoc- risy in the world. Men of low de- gree are vanity, and men of high de- gree are a lie. Both of them together, laid in the balance of sincerity, would be found wanting. Of all hypocrites, the false teacher of religion is the most dangerous. He it is that scatters firebrands, ar- rows, and death. True Christians are honest themselves in their pro- fession of piety, and unsuspecting of others; they do not mistrust. This exposes them to the schemes of hyp- ocrites. Sometimes, also, the true teacher is absent from his charge. Of this circumstance the false teacher will avail himself. Satan is never asleep or absent. It is his business to sow tares; he selects his time, "when men sleep;" he selects his agents, his own children; he assists them in disguising themselves, and sends them forth to their hellish work. Armed with the whole armor of Satan, the false teacher approaches the children of God. He begins by cant; he talks gospel truth sometimes ; he insinuates, wheedles, and flatters, until he has gained confidence; then he addresses himself to his task in good earnest. Young converts are beguiled from the simplicity of the Gospel ; the weak in the faith are per- plexed and turned out of the way; the rest have their confidence weak- ened, their peace destroyed, and their souls put in danger. His object is to scatter, tear, and kill, and secure the fleece for a prey. Some are satisfied with the fleece, and sufi'cr the sheep to live; but this son of Satan comes also to tear and destroy. Wolves are now abroad in slieep's clothing. Let the flock of Christ beware. Let the false teachers also beware, because the Chief Shepherd will appear, and cut them in sunder, and appoint them their portion with the hypocrites. "By their fruits ye shall know them." Fruits are the conduct of a man; his actions are the language of his heart. If the flock would wait awhile before they sufl'er themselves to act, they would know that " an evil tree can not bring forth good fruit." Let the following marks be attended to in passing judgment: 1. The false teacher 2:oes to the fold of true Christians, and labors not to convert sinners from their evil ways. 2. The false teacher persuades Christians to leave the fold, instead of helping them to grow in grace, and in knowledge, and rejoicing in their prosperity, as did Barnabas. 3. The false teacher speaks evil against the true teachers of the Gospel, instead of regarding them as co-workers with the Lord. EELIGiaUS EMBLEMS. 79 PSALM xxxi: verse 13. JEREMIAH, Chap, ix: verse 3. PSALM 1: verse 20. PSALM Ixiv: veraes 3, 4. PROVERBS, Chap. XXV : vei'se 23. PROYERBS, Chap, xxvi: verse 22. JEREMIAH, Chap, xviii: verse 18. JAMES, Chap, iii: verse 8. SLANDER ANJ) BACKBITmG. For the wicked bend their bow^ they make ready their arroio upon the string, that they may privily shoot at the upright in heart. Ps. 2. their tongue a sharp sword. Ps. Ivii: 4. XI Mark! where the good man unsuspecting treads, No evil meditates, nor evil dreads; The base assassins from their covert start. And sheath the dagger in his bleeding heart; Or shoot their arrows, strung by hate, unslack, With deadly aim at the defenseless back. So smites the slanderer, with poisoned tongue, The man — his neighbor — who has done no wrong; Thief-like, he steals what gold can not replace, And, like a coward, dares not show his face: A brutish cur, that sneaks along the track, Awaits his time, then springs upon the back. Behold the good man! lie walks leisurely along toward his home; very likely he has been visiting the house of mourning; drying the poor widow's tears, or feeding and clothing the for- saken orphan. lie is probably anti- cipativig much pleasure from the re- cital of what he has seen and heard to his beloved family. He may be re- volving in his mind schemes of future benevolence, or meditating on the goodness of his heavenly Father; perhaps contemplating the vast con- cerns of the eternal state. lie sees no foe, he hears no hostile step; he feels himself suddenly wounded, his head swims, he reels, and falls to the ground. The base poltroons had carefully watched their time, and, with the 80 RELIGIOUS E]VIBLEMS. sharp dagger and empoisoned arrow, had cruelly murdered the innocent. The deed is done in secret; jet all the heavenly world heheld it; and under cover of darkness they escape, but not forever. The earth refuses to cover the blood of the murdered. This emblem sets forth the sin of slander or backbiting, which is, of all things whatsoever, the most abomi- nable, and to be detested. The slan- derer contains within himself almost all the vices of other transgressors. He is for the most part a liar of the very worst class. Whether he forges the calumny himself, or retails that of others, it matters not; he is still a liar in the sight of God and man. ISot only so, the slanderer is also a thief — a robber of the first magnitude, for He who steals my purse, steals trash; ******* But he who filches from me my good name, Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed." Look again at the brow of the slanderer, and you will see another title of infamy — that of coward. He dares not say to the face what he so freely utters behind the back. Thus he bites the hack. He resembles a snappish dog, often seen in the streets, running after passengers, and biting their heels. Furthermore, the slan- derer is, in the sight of God, a mur- derer. He must necessarily hate the person slandered ; but "he who hateth his brother is a murderer." Injury is added to hatred, which renders the case worse. Reputation is more pre- cious than life. Thus the man or woman who makes or vends a slan- der, must be known and read of all men as a liar, coward, thief, and mur- derer. The slanderer's tongue is a four- edged sword. It wounds the hand of him who uses it; it wounds the ears of those who listen to it; it wounds the heart of him who is the object of the thrust; it strikes at the throne of God, and breaks his law. Slander excludes the miserable per- petrator from the kingdom of heaven. " Who shall dwell in thy holy hill, O, Lord?" ^'•He that backbiteth not ivith his tongue." Death and life are in the power of the tongue. A whole- some tongue is a tree of life; a pol- luted tongue is a. upas of death. It may be warmed with a seraph's flame, or set on fire of hell; a world of in- iquity, or a universe of good; an un- ruly evil full of deadly poison, or a- well-ordered system, transmitting the blessings of an endless life. There- with bless we God even the Father, and therewith curse we men made after the image of God. The Jewisii Rabbis tell the follow- ing story: "A certain man sent his servant to market to buy some good food. The servant returned, bringing with him some tongues. As-ain he sent the same servant to buy some bad food. The servant again brought tongues. The master said : ' What is the reason, that when I sent you to buy good and bad food, you brought tongues?' The servant answered, 'From the tongue both good and evil come to man. If it be good, there is nothing better; if it be bad, there is nothing worse.' " K E L I G I O U S EMBLEMS. 81 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, iii : verse 2. LUKE, Chap, vi: verse 44. 1 JOHX, Chap, ii: verse 16. GALATIANS, ' Chap. V : verse 19. :|etH??NE5s-a PSALM xxxvii: verse 35. DEUTEEO'MY, Chap, xxxii: vei'so 32. JOB, Chap, xiv; verse 4. MATTHEW, Chap, xii : . verse 35. THE TREE OF EVIL. The tree corrupt, and his fruit corrupt ; for the tree is knovm. by his fruit. Matt, xii: 33. Every tree which brivgcth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. 3Iatt. Hi: 10. •Here-, in dread silence, on the bligbted heatli Behold! the Tree of Eril, and of Death: No heavenly breeze throughout the region blows; No life of Love exists where'er it grows ; No flowers of Hope around it ever bloom; No fruit of Faith e'er yields its rich perfume; Fell Unbelief strikes deep its deailly root; The branches bend with most pr^rnicious fruit; The Pride of Life, and Fleshly Lusts hang there. Emblems of misery, anguish, and despair. Two men employed in different ways j'ou see, To rid the groaning earth of this bad tree: One only lops a branch just here and there, That makes its neighbor more productive bear. The other, by experience taught to know, Aims at the root liis well-directed blow; Blow aftor blow tln'ourrli the wide heath resoun i, And with a crash, it falls and shreds the ground. The Tree of Desolation stands alone upon the blasted heatli. It sheds its baleful inlluence far and wide. ISTo dewy meads, nor grassy plains, or verdant lawns are seen around; no blushinpi; fields, waving luxuriaiitly the golden ear; no laugh- ing flowers, bestudding the earth with their stavrv gems, nor spicy groves, 6 breathins; the odor of delio:lit, can live or flourish liere. The lowing kine, the bleating, fleecy tribe, the choral songsters of the woods, arc never heard; here, in these regions, eternal silence reigns. This corrupt tree is altogether of a poisonous quality. Its roots, bark, branches, leaves, and fruit arc all poison. 82 RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. Two men are seen at work npon the tree; their object is to deUver the country from so great an evil. The one on the right liand has been em- ployed many years, without effecting any thing; he merely lops oft' a branch here and there; this only adds etrength to the remaining branches, and makes them more fruitful ; mean- while, the excised limb sprouts again. The one on the left, more wise, wants to cut the tree down ; to this end, he comes prepared with a good sharp ax; he directs his blows at the root of the tree ; blow follows blow in quick succession, every stroke tells, and soon the monster tree lies pros- trate on the ground. The Tree of Evil is an emblem of an evil heart, the bad fruit of a bad life. The unconverted man sheds a deleterious influence all around him. In his soul there is alack of spiritual graces; fiiith, love, hope, peace, joy, lono;-sufFerinG: are all wantins^. A spiritual death exists. Unbelief is the poison that corrupts the heart. Thoughts, words, and actions are all poisoned. Faith is put for the whole of religion, and unbelief for an un- godly life. Hence it is said, "He that believdh shall be saved," etc. The fruit of the evil heart is the pride of life, i. c, a love of the hon- ors and glories of the world, the lust of the flesh, i. e., intoxicating drink, gluttony, and adultery, and the vari- ous pleasures of sin; the lust of the eye, i. c, love of fine dress, fine fur- niture, and the vanities of this life. He spends his wretched strength for naught, who labors to reform his out- ward conduct only. He may make a good Pharisee, but he will never make a Christian. His heart still continues " deceitful and wicked." "First make the tree good, and the fruit will be good also." He alone is the wise man who "lays the ax at the root of the tree," who strikes at unbelief, who believes the truth as it is in Jesus. He prays with David, ^^ Create in me a clean heart," relying on the promise of God, "A new heart will I give unto you." Thus he is " created anew in Christ Jesus unto good works." " He has his fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life." Travelers inform us of a poison tree found in the island of Java, which is said by its effluvia to have " depopu- lated the country for twelve or four- teen miles around the place of its growth. It is called '■Bohan Upas.'' Poisoned arrows are prepared with the juice of it. Condemned criminals are sent to the tree to get this juice, carrying with them proper directions how to obtain it, and how to secure themselves from the malignant ex- halations, and are pardoned if they bring back a certain quantity of the poison ; but by the register there kept, not one in four is said to return." EELiGious e:\iblems, 83 GE^TESIS, Chap. >:lix: verses 6, 7. PROVERBS, Chap, xiv: verse 17. PROVERBS, Chap, xxii : verse 24. PROVERBS, Chap, xxix: .^-=^— -_^ verse 22. MATTHEW, Chap. v. verse 22. ECCLESIAST'S, Chap, vii : verse 9. ACTS, Chap, xxvi: verse 11. PROVERBS, Chap, xxvii: verse 3. ANGER, OR MADI^ESS. Anger rcstcth in ihe hosom of fools. Ecd. vii. anger and forsake lorath. Ps. xxxvii : 6. 9. Cease from Upo\ the margin of the silvery flood, Come, see the Lion in his wrathful mood. His roar terrific echoing rocks rebound, And nature trembles at the dreadful sound; His furious tail he works from side to side, Ilis bristly mane he shakes with awful pride; His eyes, wild rolling, glare with startling light, With paw upraised, he stands prepared for fight. And wherefore stands he thus with warlike look? He sees his image in the quiet brook. Man, born to reason, like the foolish beast. Lets rage hot boiling fester in his breast; The cause as futile; he himself possessed i Of evil tempers, colors all the rest. Look! here is the Lion, the kitij^ of beasts. See where he stands, mad- dened with rage. The sava^-e mon- arch is alone; the beasts of the field hide themselves when he is anscry; his dreadful roar makes them tremble in their dens; the echoinsr hills reply to the sound thereof. Now he be- comes hot with passion. lie lashes with his furious tail his heaving sides; he shakes thunder from his shaggy mane; his eyes dart lightning. See! he has raised his murderous paw; he is ready to grapple with his foe. Terrible he looks in the season of his wrath. But what has enkindled his rage? What is the cause of this fierce com- motion? Nothingbut hisown shadow, lie sees his reflected image in the 84 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. placid stream. Face answers to face ; every indication of passion is faith- fully reflected. He beholds no com- mon foe. He prepares himself for mortal comlxit. The above engraving is an emblem of Anger, and of the worthless causes that oftentimes give rise to it. Anger is one of the most fierce and deadly passions that agitate the human breast, and afiiict mankind. Let ano^er ascend the throne of the hu- man mind, and all other passions, affections, and interests are trampled under foot. A brother lies swim- ming in his blood, a village is de- populated with the edge of the sword, cities burn amid the conflagration of fire, and kingdoms, given over to the horrors of wrath, become desolate, pass into oblivion, and are known no more. But who can declare the mis- eries that flow from anger ? Anger, as a sinful passion, is never justifiable; but it oftentimes exists without any real cause whatever. Like the lion in the picture, the man is angry at the reflection of himself; it is his owm image that he sees. He imagines, and this is all ; his own evil temper colors all besides. The object of his wrath is innocent, perhaps as quiet as an unruflled lake. Be sure, before you give wa}^ to auger, that your neighbor has injured you, and then — forgive him. But even if an apparent cause does exist, suppose some one has injured me. Is not this enough ? He that sinneth, wrongeth his own soul; shall I there- fore sin and wrong mine? To have an enemy is bad ; to be one is worse. And why should I inflict self-punish-- ment for the crime of another? There is a degree of madness con- nected with anger. The angry man is brutishly insane. This is so wher- ever it is seen, whether we regard it in the conduct of Xerxes, who flogged the waves, and cast fetters into the sea to bind it, because it broke his bridge of boats, or in its daily out- breaks around us. But is there no cure for this con- tagious evil? There is. AVhat is it? When Athenodorus was about to re- tire from the court of Augustus Ctesar, he gave the emperor this advice : " Re- member, whenever you feel angry, that you neither say nor do any thing un- til you have repeated all the letters of the alphabet." This is good, but the following is better : When a man feels himself sinking into the gulf of angry passion, looking by faith on the Lord Jesus Christ, let him ex- claim, "Lord, save or I perish!" The rising storm will pass away, and all will be calm and peaceful. " The wise will let their anger cool, At least before 't is night; But in the bosom of a fool, It burns till morning light." " Anger and wrath, and hateful pride, This moment be subdued: Be cast into tlie crimson tide Of ray Redeemer's blood." EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, 85 JOB, Chap, xlii : verse 6. EZEKIEL, Chap, xiv: verse 6. JOEL, Chap, ii: verses 12, 13. MARK, Chap, i : verse 15. LUKE, Chap, xiii: verse 3. ACTS, Chap, ii: verse 38. LUKE, Chap, xxiv: verse 47. LUKE, Chap. XV ; verse 7. i--n<«ZSi"a REPENTAXCE. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit. Ps. Ii: 17. He that covereth his sins shall riot jjrosper ; hut lohoso confesseth and for- saketh them shall find mercy. Prov. xxviii: 13, On bended knees, replete with godly grief, See, where the mourner kneels to seek relief; No, " God, I thank thee," freezes on his tongue, For works of merit that to him belong: Deep in his soul conviction's plowshare rings, And to the surface his corruption brings ; He loathes himself, in lowest dust he lies. And all-abased, " Unclean, unclean," he cries. From his full heart pours forth the gushing plea^ "God of the lost, be merciful to me! " The light of life descends in heavenly rays, And angels shout, and sing, 'Behold, he prays.' Behold here an individual on his knees, weeping. lie is in great dis- tress of mind; he has retired from the busy walks of life, and come to this place of solitude, to give vent to his feelino:s. His ffroaus break the surrounding silence; they return in soft but melancholy echoes to his ears. Above his head are seen de- scending particles of heavenly light; a little in the rear stands the. plow, imbedded in the opening earth. This is an emblem of Repentance. The man bowed on his knees repre- sents the true penitent, whose soul is humbled under the mighty hand of God. He withdraws from the vani- ties of the world; he is sick of sin; he breaks the silence of solitude with his inquiries of, " 0, that I knew 86 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. where I miglit find him !" He does not, in the pride of self-righteous- ness, exclaim, " God, I thank thee that I am not as other men," etc. 0, no ! too deeply he feels the plague of his own heart. As the plow enters the hard soil, and lays bare furrow after furrow, even so has conviction penetrated the heart of the true penitent, and laid bare its deceiful folds, and discovered its once hidden depths of pollution and guilt. He abhors himself in dust and in ashes; he can only sa}', God be merciful to me a sinner. The plowshare of God's convicting spirit has entered and broken up the fallow ground of his heart; hence he brings the sacrifice with which God is well pleased — that is, " a broken and con- trite heart" — and the light of Jeho- vah's countenance falls full upon his soul, as an inward token of divine acceptance. Repentance consists in a change of mind or purpose, wherein the peni- tent " ceases to do evil," and " learns to do well." The prodigal repented when he said, " I will arise and go to my father," and departed. The farm- er's son, who, when he had refused to go and work in the vineyard, and afterward altered his purpose and went, repented. Saul of Tarsus, when he refused any longer to obey the mandates of the chief priests and scribes, and inquired, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" re- pented. Thus we see it consists in actuall}^ doing the will of God. It is not mere anxiety ; Simon Magus had this; nevertheless he was still in the " bonds of iniquit}'." Nor mere trembling; Felix trembled, yet re- tained his sins. Nor remorse; Judas had this, and died in despair; and Dives also, though in the regions of the lost. Repentance is the gate of heaven. It is the condition, upon the fulfill- ment of which depends eternal life. " You repent, and I will forgive." Hence the ambassadors of heaven have invariably directed the attention of sinners to this as a first step to- ward obtaining the favor of God, and every promised blessing. The proph- ets, in their denunciations; John of the Desert, in his fiery exhortations; the Savior, in his divine instructions, and the apostles, in their warm ap- peals, enjoined upon every soul "re- pentance toward God." Through this gate all have passed who have at any time been recog- nized by the Almighty as his serv- ants. The children of Israel passed through it, typically, when they ate the bitter herbs — before they beheld the pillars of cloud and of fire in the wilderness; Isaiah, ere he touched the sacred harp of prophesy; Elijah, ere he ascended in the chariot of ethereal fire; Ezekiel, before he gazed upon the visions of the Eternal; Dan- iel, before the Angel of God pro- nounced him "Blessed;" Paul, ere he was " caught up to the third heav- en;" and John of Patmos, before the glorious Revelations of "Alpha and Omega" filled him with wonder and astonishment; and " the hundred and forty-four thousand," ere they sung the sono; of Moses and of the Lamb. Repentance is a sacred duty; God "now commands all men every-where to repent." Why? "Because all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God ;" and, "'Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." IIELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, 87 PEOYEEBS, Chap, x: verse 24. ISAIAH, Chap, iii: verse 11. PSALM liii: verse 5. kevelatio:n', Chap. XXI : verse 8. PSALM xxvii: verse 3. PSALM Ivi: verse 4. PROVERBS. Chap, xxix: verse 6. PSALM xxiii: verse 4. FEARFUL AND FEARLESS. The wicked flee when no man pursueth, but the righteous are as bold as a lion. Frov. xxciii: 1. Here is depicted plainly to the eye, The wicked fieeing when no foe is nigh. The thunder echoing in its deep-toned peals, Alai'ms his conscience, and awakes his heels. The wind low whistling through the hollow tree, A call from justice is, from which they flee; The rolling torrent, in its murmurs loud, Appears the shout of the pursuing crowd; Each object looming through the gloom of night. His fear increases, and augments his flight. Not so the Righteous; see him walk along. Bold as a lion, as a mountain strong. Courageous heart, he fears no rude surprise, He trusts in Jesus, and all else defies. This engraving shows a man run- ning as it were for his life. On the other hand is seen one who walks steadily and boldly forward. The former is Fearful; he is alarmed at every thing he sees and hears; he is afraid of his own shadow. The dis- tant echo of reverberating thunder strikes terror into his heart; the au- tumnal breeze, rustling through the fallino: leaves, makes him afraid; the neiahborina: torrent, as it tumbles down the mountain ravine, causes him to fear. He can not endure darkness, neither can he bear the light. He is afraid of company, yet he fears to be left alone. Now he is fleeing when there is none pursuing How difforert the See how boldly he walics along fearless niau: The 88 RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, gloom of night is nothing to him; he appears to fear no evih While others are running, he stands his ground ; while they are afraid, his heart is strong. This emblem is descriptive of two characters: of the Righteous and of the Wicked. It is the loicked who flee when none pursue. Their guilty conscience transforms every object into an enemy; therefore they are in fear where no fear is, and flee away in terror. A Christian king of Hungary, talk- ing one day with his brother, who was a gay, thoughtless courtier, upon the subject of a future judgment, was laughed at by his brother for indulg- ing in " melancholy thoughts." The king made no reply. There was a custom in that country that if the executioner sounded a trumpet be- fore any man's door, that man was led instantly to death. The king or- dered the trumpet to be sounded that night before the door of his brother, who, on hearing the dismal sound, and seeing the messenger of death, was greatly alarmed. He sprang into the presence of the king, beseeching to know how he had oflended. "Alas, my brother!" replied the king, "you have never oflended me; but if the sight of iTiy executioner is so dread- ful, shall not we, who have so greatly offended God, fear to be brought be- fore the judgment-seat of Christ?" M. Volney, a French infidel, it is well known, was frightened during a storm, while some Christian ladies, his fellow-passengers, bore all with unruffled composure. M. Voltaire, a Frenchman also, and of the same stamp, ati'ected to despise the Chris- tian religion during life; yet on his death-bed he sent to Dr. Tronchin, a priest, to administer to him the sac- rament. It was affirmed of him that he was afraid to be left alone in the dark. The righteous man is afraid of nothing but sin. He goes forward in the path of duty, though dangers grow thick around him. He enters the burning, fiery furnace, and grap- ples with its curling flames. He de- scends into the den of lions, the king of beasts crouches at his feet. In the storm at midnight, tossed upon the raging billows, he is calm in the pres- ence of the God he serves, and to whom he belongs. In earthquake's shock, when temples are falling, earth opening, and ruin reigns around, he stands fearless amid the desolation, exclaiming, " Therefore will we not fear, though the earth be removed out of its place." Descending the dark vale of death itself, he says ex- ultingly, " Though I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear no evil." And when the last enemy stands full in his presence, he sings triumphantly: " Lend, lend your wings; I mount — I fly; grave, wliere is thy victory ? death, where is thy sting?" li E L I G 1 U S E .M B L E M S 83 MATTHEW, Chap, vi: verse 24. 1 KINGS, Chap, xviii: verse 21. JAMES, Chap, i: verse 8. ISAIAH, Chap, xxix: verse 13. 1 JOHN, Chap, ii : verses 15, 16. 2 TIMOTHY, Chaj). iii : verse 4. 2 TIMOTHY^ Chap, iv: verse 10. PHILLIPP'NS, Chap, iii : verse 19. THE TWO WOELDLINGS. They profess that they know God; but in works they deny him. Titus, i: 16. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 1 John, ii: 15. V 'Ew here spread out the plains of heavenly light, And narrow way, that ends where all is bright. Behold, with globes, upon the lightsome green, To different work addressed, two men are seen. With careless ease one rolls his globe along, And follows after, full of mirth and song; The other strives to move his world's vast weight. Up hill, toward the brightly-shining gate: He strives in vain; the globe, though in the track, Still downward tending, drives him further back. And though they seem contrary roads to go, They meet together in the vale below. Thus some pursue an open course of sin; Some Christ profess, yet hold the world within. Though these appear to play a different game, Their fate is equal, and their end the same. In the en2:ravinsr, two men are seeu employed in roilinc: sjlobcs. The otie on the rio^ht hand has very easy work of it; he is goinsr down hill; his globe rolls on Vapidly. lie fol- lows after with e;reat srlee and meri- ment; soon he is out of sight below. The one on the left is seen, with his globe, in the path that leads to the gate of brightness. He is striving to make his way toward the gate of light, with the ponderous world be- fore him. In vain he struggles, and heavens, and lifts; it still presses down \)9 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS upon him, aud bears him backward, till at length he finds himself at the bottom of the valley, where he meets his neighbor, who laughs heartily at him for taking so much trouble to ettect what he accomplished so easily. This picture represents two kinds of worldly characters, who both equal- ly miss of heaven in the end. The gate of light shows the entrance to the New Jerusalem; the pathway signifies the way of holiness, leading thereunto; the man on the right, roll- ing his ball along so gayly, represents the professed man of the world. He has chosen honors, riches, and 2^l(^cismrs for his portion. These, combined, form the deity that he worships. Where they lead, he follows; where they tarry, there he also abides ; hence he turns his back upon the way of life, and upon the glories of the up- per world. He is no hypocrite — not he; he glories in his conduct; he will have nothing to do with church or minister, prayer-book or Bible, He says in his heart, " There is no God," and casting ofi" all fears, he hastens down the road that leads to death, and receives the doom which awaits "all those who forget God." He on the left represents one who, while professedly a follower of Christ, yet loves the honors, riches, and pleas- ures of the world. He thinks the Bible may be a true book, and heaven worth having when he can have no more of earth, therefore he is found in the way. Ife professes to love God, but in works he denies him; he makes, consequently, no progress heavenward. The world is too much for him; it obtains more and more power over liim, until it, after hav- ing made him miserable on earth, sinks him into the gulf of woe, where he receives his portion with the " hyjp' ocrites and unbelievers." When in the light of faith divine, We look on things below, Honor, and gold, and sensual joy, How vain and dangerous too! Honor 's a puff of noisy breath : Yet men expose their blood, And venture everlasting death, To gain that airy good- While others starve the nobler mind, And feed on shining dust. They rob the serpent of his food, T' indulge a sordid lust. Tlie pleasures that allure our sense Are dangerous snares to souls; There's but a drop of flattering sweet, Aud dashed with bitter bowls. Dr. Waiti KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, 9) EOMANS, Chap, i : verse 17. EOMANS, Chap, iv: vex'se 5. HEBREWS, Chap, x: verse 5. LUKE, Chap, viii: verse 50. JAMES, Chap, ii : verse 17. JAMES, Chap, ii: verse 21. 1 THESSAL'NS, Chap, i: ^ verse 3. EEyELATIO:N", Chap. XX : verse 13. FAITH AKD "WORKS. Seest thou how faith wrought with his works, and by works was faith made ■perfect. James, ii: 22. Lo! where the Boatman stems the flowing tide, And aims direct his little bark to guide; With both oars worlcing, he can headway make. And leave the waters foaming in his wake; I?nt if one oar within tlieboat he biys, In useless circles, round and round, he plays. So Faith and Works, when both together brought, With mighty power, and heavenly life are fraught, To help the Christian on his arduous road, And urge him forward on his way to God : If Faith or Works, no matter which, he drops. Short of his journey's end he surely stops. Look at the honest waterman ply- ing at his daily occnpation. He has just left a passenger on the other side. See with what precision he guides his little hoat. By pulling hotli oars with equal strength, he makes rapid prog- ress, and steers straight. He leaves the waters foaming in his track; this is called his wake. If he should lay in either of his oars, his progress would at once be stopped. As long as he plies both, he goes ahead; but let him pull but one ever so hard, and he could not advance a foot. Round and round he would float, in eddying circles, forever. In vain would his passengers await his ar- rival ; in vain would his wife and lit- tle ones expect liis return ; he would never more return ; probably he would 92 EELIGIOUS E.MBLEMS. drift out to sea, and be lost in the im- mensity of old ocean. The accompanying engraving is an emblem of Faith and Works united. The Christian has a " calHng," or occu- pation, in which he makes progress so long as faith and works are united. They are to him as a propelling power, urging him forward in his pathway to immortality. He exerts a holy influ- ence wherever he goes, and leaves a brilliant track behind him. It is seen that a man of God has been there. But let him lay in one of his oars; let it be said of him, " He hath left off to do good," and his progress m the divine life will at once be checked. Let him lay aside "Faith," and the effect will be the same. He may, in- deed, go round and round, like a mill- horse, in a circle of dry performances; but he will never reach the Christian's home. In vain will his friends, who have gone before him, expect his ar- rival: he will never see the King m his beauty. The current of sin will bear him outward and downward, and land him eventually in the gulf of the lost. Some there are who have " faith," yet who are destitute of " good works." " The devils believe," but they neither love uor obey — devils they continue. Deists again, men who believe in the being and unity of God but reject the Bible as an inspired book, have faith. But are their works perfect (good) before God? Will their faith save them? All antinomians are of this class. Some, on the other hand, strive to abound in " works," who yet are des- titute of "faith." Cain, who brought his offering, and slew his brother Abel, was of this class. The Phari- sees, who paid tithes of all they pos- sessed, and who cried out, "Crucify him ! crucify him !" were also of this number. The professors of " good works," in our own day, who have no true faith in Christ, are of this number; for all offerings whatsoever, that are not perfumed with the odor of Christ's sacrifice, they are an abomination to the Lord. In Abraham we see faith and works admirably combined. "lie believed God, and it was counted to him for righteousness," "and he was justified by works, when he had offered Isaac his son upon the altar." " Thus faith wrought with his works, and by works was laith made perfect." In fine, where there is a scriptural "faith," that faith which is the evi- dence or conviction of unseen reali- ties, there will be "works" corre- sponding thereto, as surely as there IS life while the soul is in the body. On the other hand, where there is no true faith, there can be no " works" acceptable to God, no more than there can be life when the soul has left the body. " For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works IS dead also." EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 93 ACTS, Chap, xix verse 36. ECCLESIAST'S, Chap, v: verse 2. PEOVEEBS, Chap, xix: verse 2. ECCLESIAST'S, |,, Chap, viii : ii verse 3. 1 COEIXTH'XS, Chap, ix: verse 27. PEOYEEBS, Chap, vi: verse 27. PEOVEEBS, Chap. XV : verse 28. PEOVEEBS, Chap, xxix: verse 20. PRECIPITATIOX, OR RASimESS. With a furious man thou shalt not go. Prov. xxii: 24.- simple pass on, and are punished. Prov. xxii. o O. The Behold the rash, impetuous charioteer, Who reckless urges oa his wild career; Dangers and darkness thick arontnl him grow, High cliffs above, and yawning gulfs below; Yet much at ease. In neither fear nor pain, He smacks his whip, and freely gives the rein; Rocks, vast, precipitous, he dashes by, But frightful chasms now before hira lie; Down, down the dreadful precipice he flies, And dashed to pieces, for his rashness dies. Thus williiil youth to passion gives the reins. And lengthened grief, for pleasures short, obtains By passion drawn, before he's well aware, He sinks o'erwhelmed in misery and despair. The youth above is seen driviiior furiously along paths replete with danger. The road, if road it may be called, becomes more and more hazardous. He labors not to curb the fiery steeds, whose speed increases every moment. Instead of restrain- ing them, he cracks bis whip, and loosely gives the rein. He appears to be wholly unconscious of his im- minent peril. Abrupt cliffs hang over his head, and deep, awful ravines open on each side of his path. Ilis situation becomes still more danger- ous; right ahead a frightful gulf pre- sents itself to his eyes, now begin- ing to open. With the rapidity of lightning he approaches the dreadful brink; on the coursers fly. Now he sees his danger, and strives to check 94 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. them. It is in vain; they have had the rein too long; their blood is up. With a fearful bound, over the preci- pice they go; horses aud driver are dashed to atoms against the rocks, and are seen no more. Ancient philosophers nsed to com- pare human passions to wild horses, and the reason of man to the driver, or coachman, whose business it was to control and guide them at his pleas- ure. . But many men have more com- mand over their horses than they have over themselves. This is a melan- choly truth. Their proud chargers are taught to stand still, to galop, to trot, and to perform, in short, all kinds of evolutions with perfect ease; while the passions run away with their rightful owners; they will not submit to be guided by reason. It is of far more importance that a man should learn to govern his passions than his horses. Our passions, like iire and water, are excellent servants, but bad masters. Horses, to be use- ful, must be governable; but to be governable, they must be broke in betimes, and thoroughly. So with the passions, otherwise their power will increase over that of reason, and in the end lead to ruin. Philosophy may do much in en- abling us to govern the passions; re- ligion, however, can do more. It is said of Socrates, who had a wretched scold for a wife, that one day, when ahe was scold i.ig him at a great rate, he bore it very patientl}", controlling himself by reason. His unruffled com- posure enraged her still more, and she threw a bowl of dirty water in his face. Then he spoke: "It is quite natural," said he, smiling, " when the thunder has spent its fury, and the lightning its fires, that the teeming shower should descend." But religion is more easily obtained than philosophy, and it is far more powerful. It imparts a gracious, in- fluential principle that enables who- soever submits to it to govern his passions, and even to love his ene- mies, and thus to conquer them. Many have conquered kingdoms, who could not conquer themselves. Thus Alexander, who, being a slave to his passions, slew Clytus; liis most intimate friend. And, notwithstand- ing the laurels that have been woven for the conquerors of ancient and mod- ern times, the Almighty himself has prepared a diadem of glory for the self-conquered, bearing, in letters of heavenly light, this inscription : '■^He that ruleth his oion spirit, is better than he that taketh a city.'" Madnesa by nature reigns within, The passions burn and rage; Till God's own Son, with skill divine, Tlie inward fire assuage. We give our souls the wounds they feel, We drink the poisonous gall, And rush witli fury down to hell, But heaven prevents the fall. Dr. Watts. KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, 95 PSALM xxxix: verse 6. ISAIAH, Chap, xl: verse 6. 1 JOHN", Chap, ii: verse 17. EC.CLESIAST'S, Chap, i: verse 8. ECCLESIAST'S, Chap, iv: verse 8. ECCLESIAST'S, Chap, v: verse 10. JOHN, Chap. V : verse 27. ECCLESIAST'S, Chap, i : verse 2. VAI^ PURSUITS. Wherefore do ye. spend money for that irhich is not bread'? and your labor for that which satisjieth not ? Isa. Iv : 2. The truant urchin has forsook the school, To learn betimes how best to play the fool; O'er hedge and brake, beneath a burning sun, With breathless haste, he perseveres to run; His folly's cause is pictured to the eye; The object what? — A painted butterfly. At length outspent, he grasps the trembling thing, And with the grasp, destroys the painted wing; Chagrined he views, for that once beauteous form, Nothing remains, except a homely worm. So larger children leave important deeds, And after trifles oft, the truant speeds; And if by toil he gains the gaudy prize, Alas! 'tis changed — it fades away, and dies. The foolish boy, leaving the useful and delightful pleasures of study, runs after a pretty butterfly that has attracted his attention. On he runs, through brake and brier, over hedges and ditches, up hill and down dale; the sun, at the same time, pours down its burning rays upon his uncovered head. See how he sweats, and pufts, and toils! 'Tis all in vain; just as he comes up with the prize, away it flies "far above his reach. Still he follows on; now it has settled upon a favorite flower. He is sure of it now; he puts forth his hand. Lo ! it is gone. Still he pursues — on and on he runs after the glittering insect. Presently it alights, and hides itself within the leaves of the lily of the valley. For awhile he loses sight of it; again he discovers it on the wing, and acrain he renews the chase. Nor 06 EELIGiOUS EMBLE^IS, is it until the sun descends the west- ern sky, that he comes up with the object of his hiborious race. Weary of the wing, the butteriiy seeks shel- ter for the night within the cup of the mountain blue-bell. The boy, marking its hiding-place, makes a desperate spring, and seizes the trem- 1^1 ing beauty. In his eagerness to pos- sess it, he has crushed its tender wings, and marred entirely those golden colors. With deep mortifica- tion, and bitter regret at his folly, he beholds nothing left but a mere grub, an almost lifeless worm, without form and without loveliness. This emblem aptly shows the folly of those who, whether young or old, leaving the solid paths of knowledge, of industr}^ and of lawful pleasure, follow the vanities of this life. Cor- rupt and unbridled passions and vi- tiated tastes lead, in the end, to ruin. The way of transgressors is hard, as well as foolish and vain. To fol- low after forbidden objects is far more laborious than to p'ursue those only that are lawful. It is said of luisdom that all Jier ways are ways of pleas- antness, that all her paths are paths of peace. The mind of the youth who is in pursuit of vanities, or of unlawful pleasures, is ever raging, like a tem- pest. Now up, now down — he knows nothing of true pleasure, nothing of solid peace. The object he desires and pursues so ardently mocks him again and again. "To-morrow," he says to himself, "will give me the object of my wishes." To-morrow comes — once more it eludes his grasp. Now he becomes uneasy, then impa- tient, then fretful, then anxious, and then desperate; now he resolves at all hazards to seize upon the prize — it is his own ; but ah ! the flowers have faded, the beautiful colors have disappeared ; the angel of beauty is transformed into a loathsome object. His eyes are opened; and, alas! too late, clisappointed and remorseful, he learns the truth of the maxim that it is not all gold that glitters." " Man has a soul of vast desires ; He burns witJiin with restless fires; Tossed to and fro, his passions fly From vanity to vanity. " In vain on earth we hope to find Some solid good to fill the mind: We try new y)leasures, but we feel The inward thirst and torment still. " So when a raging fever burns, We shift from side to side by turns; And 'tis a poor relief we gain, To change the place, but keep the pain, " Great God ! subdue the vicious thirsty This love to vanity and dust; Cure the vile fever of the mind, And feed our souls with joys refined.' Dr. Watts. a KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS PSALM xxxvii : verses 35, 36. EZEKIEL, Chap, xxi: verse 14. JUDGES, Chap, i: verses 6, 7. DANIEL, Chap, v: verse 20. PEOVEEBS, Chap. XV : verse 25. 2 KINGS, Chap, xviii; verse 28. 2 KINGS, Chaj). xix: verse 37. JAMES, Chap, iv : verse 6. DANGER OF GREATNESS. Tlie high ones of stature shall be hewn down^ and the haughty shall be humbled. Isa. x: 33. The clouda assemble in the blackening west, Anon with gloom the sky becomes o'ercast, United winds with wide-mouthed furj roar; Old ocean, rolling, heaves from shore to shore; With boiling rage the waves begin to rise, And ruffian billows now assail the skies; The hardy forests, too, affrighted quake. The hills they tremble, and the mountains shake; The oak majestic, towering to the skies, Laughs at the whirlwind, and the storm defies, Spreads wide its arms, rejoicing in its pride, And meets unbending the tornado's tide; The winds prevail, one loud tremendous blow, The monarch prostrates, and his pride lays lowj While the low reed, in far more humble form, Unknown to greatness, safe, outlives the storm. The storm rages. The sturdy oak, the growth of centuries, lifts its proud head towering to the heavens; it spreads abroad its ample branches, giving shelter to birds and beasts. For a long time it resists the fury of the hurricane, but 'tis all in vain; with a mighty crash it is overturned; its very roots are laid bare; its branch- 7 ing honors are brought low; birds, beasts, and creeping reptiles now trample upon its fallen greatness. But see ; the humble reed, bending to the storm, escapes unhurt. Its lowly position has preserved it from destruction ; while its mighty jieigh- bor is no more. It still lives, and grows, and flourishes. fJS RELIGIOUS EMBLEMS This is an apt emblem of the dan- ger attending upon higli stations, and of the security alforded in the less elevated walks of life. It is calcu- lated to damp the ardor of ambition, of at least that ambition that seeks to be great only that self may be en- riched, or vanity gratified. This kind of greatness is, indeed, the most dangerous, and the most un- certain. It is sure to be a mark for others, equally aspiring and unprin- cipled, to shoot at; while the posses- sor of this greatness, not being pro- tected by the shield of conscious in- tegrity, falls to rise no more, and the flatterers and dependents being no longer able to enrich themselves, unite in trampling under foot the man they formerly delighted to honor. Love is not an evil of itself, neither is ambition ; they may both be ex- pended on worthless or sinful objects. Let the youth seek out a proper ob- ject for the lofty aspirings of the soul ; let him learn to direct them by the providence and word of God. True greatness consists in goodness; in being useful to mankind. Those individuals usually called great have been the destroyers, not the benefac- tors of our race. A private station is as much a post of honor as the most elevated. Indeed, properly speaking, there are no private stations; every man is a public man, and equally in- terested with others in the welfare and progress of his fellows. The lowly reed is as perfect in its kind as the lofty oak, and answers equally the end of its creation. It is true, however, that the more elevated the station a man holds in society, the more responsibility he is under l3oth to God and man. He is also exposed to more dangers and temptations. Euvy, that hates the excellence she can not reach, will carp at him, and slander shoot her poisoned arrows at him. Happiness seldom dwells with greatness, nor is safety the child of wealth and hon- ors. " But he that humbleth him- self — in due time — shall be exalted." A striking instance of the danger of great- ness may be found in the fall of Cardinal Wolsey. This ambitious man lived in the reign of Henry VIII, king of England. He was that monarch's favorite minister. He is said to have been " insatiable in his acquisi- tions, but still more magnificent in his ex- penses; of great capacity, but still more un- bounded in enterprise; ambitious of power, but still more ambitious of glory." He suc- ceeded — he was raised to the highest pinnacle; but he fell under the displeasure of the king. The inventory of his goods being taken, they were found to exceed the most extravagant surmises. Of fine holland, there were found eleven hundred pieces; the walls of his palace were covered with cloth of gold and silver; he had a cupboard of plate, all of massy gold; and all the rest of his riches and furniture were in the same proportion, all of which were converted to the use of the king. A bill of indictment was preferred against him; he was ordered to resign the great seal, and to depart from his palace. Soon after, he was arrested for high treason, and commanded to be conducted to London to take his trial. When he arrived at Leicester Abbey, he was taken sick — men said he poisoned himself. His disorder increased. A short time before he expired, he said to the officer who guarded him: "0, had I but served my God as faith- fully as I have served my king, he would not have forsaken me in my gray hairs." He died shortly after, in all the pangs of remorse, and left a life rendered miserable by his unbounded ambition for greatness. KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 99 1 THESSAL'NS, Chap, v: verse 7. PEOVEEBS, Chap, xxviii: verse 1. ISAIAH, Chap. Ivii: verse 20. PEOYERBS, Chap, x: verse 24. 2 KUn-GS, Chap, ix: verse 31. ISAIAH, Chap, xlviii; verse 22. 1 PETEE, Chap, iii: verse 12. ISAIAH, Chap, iii: verse 11. GUILT. For every one that docth evil hateth the light. John, iii: 20. tv splendor rising, view " the king of day," And darkness chasing from the earth away; The beast of prey escapes before the sun, To thickest covert, ere his work is done; The birds of night now flee away apace, And hide securely in some gloomy place; While the blithe lark, elate pours forth its lays, And warbles to the sun its notes of praise. So guilty men pursue in devilish mood, The trade of plunder, and the deed of blood; They work in darkness without shame or fear. And skulk in darkness when theday draws near; While conscious innocence walks fortli ujjright, And, like the lark, rejoices iu the light. See where the glorious sun is ris- ing in majesty and strength. Dark- ness has fled from his and presence, now there is nothing hid from his rosy light. See the beast of prey, slinking off to his den. Stung with hunger, and athirst fgr blood, he roamed round in the darkness of night. Lighting upon a sheep cote, he breaks into the inclosure; the bleating, helpless lambs become his prey; some he devours, others he leaves mangled and torn upon the ground. Detected by the light, he sneaks away; he plunges into the forest, and hides him in its thickest shade. The birds of night — the bat, and others — fly away before the rising sun. The music of the awakening choir, blooming fields, and spicy gardens, possess no charms for them. Mold- 100 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. ering ruins, among thickest shades, where the toad finds a shelter, and the serpent hisses — this is their favor- ite dwelling-place; while the gay lark, high mounting, pours forth his praises to the solar king. He is gladdened by his beams, and welcomes his ap- proach with all the melody of song. "Thou, Lord, makest darkness, and it is night, wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep forth. The sun ariseth ; they gather themselves together, and lay them down in their de^is." The eno-ravino; is emblematical of guilt ; for happy would it be for man- kind, were the beasts of prey and birds of night the only disturbers of the world's repose — the only destroy- ers that walk abroad in darkness. Alas! *' When night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine." Then, too, the robber goes forth to perpetrate his deeds of violence and rapine; then, too, the adulterer, and kindles a fire that will burn to the lowest hell; and shrouded in the mantel of night, the man of blood stalks forth, and works his deeds of death. In this way, man, made in the im- age of God, becomes allied to the most malignant part of the brute creation, companions and co-workers with them. What degradation! Alas, alas! how are the mighty fallen! Look again at the folly and igno- rance of wicked men in supposing themselves concealed because they can not see. It is related of the ostrich, that she covers her head only with reeds, and because she can not see herself, thinks she is hid from the eye of her pursuers. Thus it is with the workers of iniquity in the night- time; they may indeed be hid from the sleeping eyes of mortals, but the ever- wakeful eye of Jehovah looks full upon them. When they say, " Surely the darkness shall cover me," even then "the night is light" all around them. "Clouds and darkness are round about Him;" they are Je- hovah's habitation, therefore what is mistaken for a covering is the pres- ence-chamber of the Holy God, who " compasseth thy path, and thy lying down, and who is acquainted with all ways." "Every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth, cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought iu God." " When men of mischief rise In secret 'gainst the skies, Thy hand shall sweep them to the grave; And oh ! beyond the tomb. How dreadful is their doom. Where not a hand is reached to s^ve!" " His enemies, with sore dismay, Fly from tlie light, and shun the day: Then lift your heads, ye saints, on high. And sing, for your redemption's nigh." EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS 101 LUKE, Chap, xxi: verse 19. JAMES, Chap, v: verse 7. JAMES, Chap, v: verse 10. HEBEEWS, Chap, xii: verses 1, 2. JAMES, Chap, i : verses 2, 3, 4, MATTIIETV, Chap, xviii: verse 22. EOMANS, Chap, v: verse 3. 2 PETEE, Chap, i: verse 6. PATIENCE AND LONG-SUFFERIXG. Be patient in tribulation. Rom. xii: 12. An example of suf- fering, ojfiiction, and patience. Behold, we count them happy iv'ho endure. James, v: 10, 11. With sore afflictions, and with injuries too, One deeply-loaded, in the pictui-e view; Above, beneath, and reigning all around. Trouble, and chains, and slanderous foes are found; iler own sweet home no more a shelter stands, Consumed by fire, it falls by cruel hands : Amid this widely-devastating stroke, No cry is heard, no voice of murmur spoke, Like the mild lamb that crouches by her side, She bears with meekness all that may betide; She leans on Hope, and upward casts her eyes. Expecting succor from the distant skies. The above engraving represents a female loaded with a heavy burden of afflictions and injuries; fast bound by chains and fetters of iron, she is unable to help herself. Before her lie whips, chains, and slanders; be- hind, her house, her only asylum, is on fire ; ignited by wicked hands, it falls a prey to the devouring flames; while the barking: cur assails her with I all his spite. In the midst of her ! wide-spread calamitj', she murmurs not, she makes no complaint. Like I the innocent lamb at her side, she I bears all without repining. She leans I on the anchor of hope, and looks up- ' ward. j This is an emblem of Patience and Long-suffering. The figure represents one who is oppressed with manifold 102 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, wrongs, upon whose shoulders is laid a heavy burden of grievous outrages, and who is incapacitated, by the force of circumstances, from extricating herself; at the same time, she discov- ers that she has not yet drank the full cup of her woes. Other evils lie- in prospect before her. One, who, instead of receiving the commiseration and assistance of her neighbors in the season of adversity, is assailed with the venom of the slanderer, the malice of the back- biter, and the wickedness of the in- cendiary; but who, in the midst of her sufferings, refuses to complain. Though cast down, persecuted, and perplexed, she yields not in despair. With lamb-like meekness, she arms her breast, and possesses her soul in patience. All sustaining hope im- parts new strength to her spirits; she commits herself to God, who judgeth righteouslj'- ; and looking to God for grace to enable her to en- dure till he shall send deliverance, cahnly awaits the issue. Wicked and unreasonable men abound in the world, and the path of duty is often beset with present difficul- ties and dangers; yet it ends where all ;s easy and delightful. Let no one recede from the path of duty, nor tamely yield to despair. We may be tempted to flee, like the prophet Jonah, from our proper work; like Joshua, we may throw ourselves on the ground, and exclaim, despond- ingly, "Alas, O Lord God!" Like David, we may say, "I shall perish by the hand of Saul;" or like Elijah, the fearless advocate of truth, say inquiringly, " What good shall my life do me ?" Yet let us remember that "light is sown for the right- eous." The seed of deliverance is already in the ground; the crop is not far distant; we shall reap if we faint not. The conduct of Job affords the most perfect example of patience. Despoiled of his worldly property, his children taken from him at a stroke, his body tormented with one of the most painful and loathsome diseases, distressed by the foolish in- fidelity of his wife, and slandered by his professed friends; yet his patient soul triumphed over all. Still cling- ing to God, his Rock, he exclaimed, exultingly, " Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; bless- ed be the name of the Lord." In your patience, possess ye your souls. Luke,xxi: 19. Be patient, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. James, v : 7. Take, my brethren, the prophets, who have spoken in the name of the Lord, for an example of suffering af- fliction and of patience. James, v: 10. Let us run with patience the race set before us; looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith; who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. Heb. xii: 1, 2. My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations;. know- ing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. JameSy i: 2, 3, 4. EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 103 MATTHEW, Chap, xxvi : verse 41. 1 TIMOTHY, Chap, vi: verse 9. JAMES, Chap, i : verse 12. HEBREWS, Chap, iv : verse 15. 1 JAMES, Chap, i: verse 14. PSALM cxix : verse 37. PEOYEEBS, Chap, xxiii: verse 31. PEOYEEBS, Chap, v: verse 8. TEMPTATION". And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Matt. vi: 13. See where the tree its richest foliage wears, And gokleu fruit its laden branches bears; Behold concealed beneath its shade sidelong, The glossy serpent, .with his poisonous tongue; The simple boy, far from his father's care, Is well-nigh taken with the gilded snare. The tempting fruit outspread before his eyes, Fills him with rapture and complete surprise; Nor hidden dangers will he wait to see, But onward hastens to the fatal tree. His father sees him, and, with faltering breath. Recalls his loved one from the brink of death; Nor waits reply, but on the spot he springs. And saves his darling from the serpent's stings. The tree rich in foliage, and rich in fruit, spreads out its delicious pro- duce to the passer-by. See also the subtile serpent, as if a'^'are of the powerful attractions that the tree af- fords, conceals itself underneath its branches, ready to spring upon the unwary traveler. That little boy has been in great danger; he left the house, and wandered on till he came- in sight of the tree; the fruit attracted his attention; he stopped, he was de- lighted with its appearance. Thought- less of danger, he was just going to- pluck and eat, when the voice of his father alarmed him; he had seen his?, danger. In another moment he was on the spot, and seizing him by the 104 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. hand, pointed out to him the serpent, and led him from the place of danger. This is an emblem of Temptation; of the danger to which youth espe- cially are exposed. The tree, with its rich foliage and golden fruit, repre- sents those things that are objects of temptation. The serpent shows the danger that invariably attends those objects that entice to sin. The artless boy represents the simplicity of youth, who, attracted by the outside appear- ance of things, consider not the evil of sinful gratification. The i anxious father exhibits the ever- watchful care of our Father who is in heaven over his children, whom, as long as they confide in him, he will deliver from evil. This emblem sets forth also some- what of the nature of temptation. Thus: the object is presented to the eye ; the mind takes pleasure in be- holding it; then the loill consents to embrace it. " Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." The youthful Joseph, w^hen in the house of Potiphar the Egyptian, was assailed by temptation. The object was presented to him in its most at- tractive form ; while master of him- self, he fied from it, and escaped. His memory is blessed. David, king of Israel, when walk- ing upon the battlements, beheld a similar object of temptation. He looked till the fire of lust was in hia soul, and his will determined upon possession. Lust, when it hath con- ceived, bringeth forth sin; sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death. This was to David the beginning of sorrows. Temptation, at the commencement, is "like the thread of the spider's web ; afterward, it is like a cart-rope." The poor slave, Joseph, broke the thread, and became a king, nay, more than a king; while the king, David, was fast bound by the cart- rope, and became a slave. The theater, the card-table, the in- toxicating cup, the painted harlot, are all so many objects of powerful temp- tation, under which lurks the serpent with its sting of death. Fleeing to God, in Christ, by earnest prayer, is the only way of escape therefrom. "How vain are all things here below I How false, and yet how fair! Each pleasure hath its poison, too^ And every sweet as snare. " The brightest things below the sky, Give but a flattering light; We should suspect some danger nigh, Where we possess delight. ******* " Sin has a thousand treacherous arts To practice on the mind; With flattering looks she-tempts our hearta^ But leaves a sting behind. " She pleads for all the joys she brings, And gives a fair pretense; But cheats the soul of heavenly things, And chains it down to sense." EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 105 PEOYEEBS, Chap, iv: verse 15. PEOYEEBS, Chap, xiii: ^ verse 16. HOSEA, Chap, xiv; verse 9. PSALM cxii: V^erse 5. PEOYEEBS, Chap, i: verse 4. 1 PETEE, Chap, v: verse 3. MAEK, Chaj). xiii: verse 37. EPHESIAl^S, Chap, vi: verse 18. PPvIJDEXCE Am) FORESIGHT. See that ye walk circumspectly. Eph. v: foreseeth the evil. Prov. xxii: 3. 15. A prudent man Where some would thougbtless rush, with skip and dance, See Prudence there witli cautious steps advance: Behind, the faithful mirror briu^ to view The roaring lion, that would her pursue; Before^ she knows, by telescopic glass, How many things will shortly come to pass; Betimes, concealed where fragrant roses hang, She sees the serpent with his poisoned fang: And thus she learns, what youth should always know. That pleasures oft with fatal snares may grow. Prudence is here seen proceeding with slow and cautious steps. She has in her right hand a telescope, bj means of which she is enabled to bring things that are far off nigh to view; thus she sees things that would otherwise be hidden entirely from her sight; while other things are magni- fied in their proportions, so that she can discern their nature more trulv. and thus adapt her conduct to the circumstances of the case. In this manner she applies her wisdom to practice. She carries also, in her left, a mirror, by which she is en- abled to detect objects that are be- hind her. A lion is discovered de- scending from the mountains, hungry, and ravening for its prey. Nor in her attention to remoter objects is 106 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. she regardless of those nigh at hand , she espies concealed behind a rose- bush a serpent ; it is of the danger- ous kind. By her timely discovery, she saves herself from its poisonous fangs This is an emblem of Prudence ; for what is prudence but wisdom ap- plied to practice? Wisdom enables us to determine what are the best ends, likewise what are the best means to be used in order to attain those ends. But prudence applies all this to practice, suiting words and actions to time, place, circumstance, and man- ner. ! how necessary is prudence for the purposes of the present life. Without prudence, the mighty become enfeebled, the wise become foolish, and the wealthy, inhabitants of the poor-house. There are duties to be done, pleas- ures to be enjoyed, dangers to be guarded against, all of which can not be effected unless prudence guides the helm. Pleasures and dangers are 80 artfully mingled together, as the serpent among the roses, that the pru- dent only can possibly detect the snare. The youth can not be rich in experi- ence; still, he can cultivate prudence, which will beget an habitual presence of mind, ever-watchful and awake. Misfortunes are common to all; the prudent, considering that he is not exempt from the common lot of mor- tals will guard against them; and, as if they were sure to come, he will prepare himself to endure them. Like the manner, who, when sailing in windy latitudes, sweeps the hori- zon with his telescope to see if there are signs of squalls; tow^ard evening, he shortens sail, sets his watch, and keeps a good look-out. Now, if prudence is so necessary and profitable when applied to the things of this life, it is much more so when applied to the life which is to come, because the soul is of more value than the body, and eternity of more importance than time. Events not contingent but certain will come upon us, against which, if we are prudent, we shall provide — events solemn, momentous, and deeply inter est- inq. What more solemn than death? What more momentous than the judg- ment to come ? What more interest- ing to an immortal spirit than the final issues of that judgment? Shall I my everlasting days with fiends or angels spend? "The prudent man foreseeth the evil, and hideth him- self. The simple pass on, and are punished." " O may thy Spirit guide my feet In ways of ngliteousness ! Make every path of duty straight And plain before my face. " My watchful enemies combine To tempt my feet astray; They flatter with a base design To make my soul their prey. " Lord, crush the serpent in the dust, And all his plots destroy; While those that in thy mercy trust, Forever shout for joy." EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 107 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, ii: verse 3. GALATIANS, Chap. V : verse 1. 1 coeinth':n's, verse 7. " ^' • EPHESIANS, Chap, vi : verse 13. ACTS, Chap. XX : verse 24. JOB, Chap, xiii: verse 15. HEBEEWS, Chap, iii: verso G. 1 COEINTH'JS'S, Chap. XV : verse 58. FORTITUDE AXD C0XSTA:^CY. The righteous shall never be removed. Prov. x: 30. Behold, ive count them hajppy who endure. James, v : 11. As stands the pillar on the solid ground, Nor heeds the tempest that prevails around, Unmoved, though tempests bluster from on high, And thunders rolling shake the trembling sky : So Fortitude is strong in Virtue's cause, Nor fears contempt, nor covets vain applause; But when the storms of evil tongues prevail, And envy rises like a furious gale, 8he bears on high her ample spotless shield. Her own fair fame, and still disdains to yield; Enduring greatly, till the storm is gone. Then sees triumphant that her cause is won. Behold here the emblems of Forti- tude and Constancy. The pillar stands upright amidst the storm, and upright in the midst of sunshine, i hearing the summer's heat and win- I ter's cold, by night and by day ; still it stands, regardless of passing events, and answering at the same time the \ end of its erection. Thus Constancy 1 continues at the post of duty. For- 1 titude is seen standing by the pillar of Constancy. See how she braves the fury of the tempest! "Winds whistle, thunders roll, and night seems gathering together a magazine of storms to let loose upon her head; yet she continues at the post ot pa- tient endurance; with her shield she is enabled to protect herself against all the storms which beat around. 108 KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS, Courage resists danger; fortitude endures pain, either of the body or of the mind, or both. True fortitude is always connected with a holy, a righteous cause. Adversity, or op- position, is the test of fortitude and constancy; it is the fiery trial which tries the virtuous; thev come out of it as gold seven times purified, losing nothing save the alloy. Holiness of character, faith in God's Word, con- stitute the shield of Fortitude, and render her altogether invulnerable. It is easy for a man to profess at- tachment to a good cause when that cause meets with the general appro- bation. It is an easy thing to boast of virtue that has never been tried by temptation, and to exult in fortitude that has never ^had to bear the storm of opposition; but true fortitude is found to consist in supporting evils with resignation, and in enduring opposition with resolution and dig- nity. " He that loseth wealth," say the Spaniards, <' loseth much; he that loseth his friends, loseth more ; but he that loseth his spirit, loseth all." The man of fortitude, strong in con- scious integrity, and in the knowledge of the right, though wealth may de- sert him, though his friends may for- sake him in his greatest need, yet he possesses his soul in patience ; he rejoices that his soul is free. The cause of truth he knows can never fall. This makes him magnanimous, both to do and to dare. One of the most conspicuous in- stances of true fortitude is found in the conduct of the Apostle Paul. After having for some time served the Church at Ephesus, his duty called him to Jerusalem, where he knew he was to encounter the deadly opposi- tion of his enemies. Before he set out, he preached his farewell sermon. The people were greatly afl'ected. The thoughts of losing their beloved pastor, and of the dangers that awaited him, melted them into tears. " Thej all wept sore, and fell on Paul's neck, and kissed him, sorrowing most of all for the words which he spoke, that they should see his face no more." These circumstances were sufficient to have overwhelmed the stoutest heart. Paul's reply is the language of true fortitude : " Bonds and afflic- tions await me ; but none of these things move me; neither count I my life dear unto me, so that I may finish my course with joy." " Beset with threatening dangers round, Firm Fortitude maintains her ground: Her conscience holds her courage up. The soul that' s filled with virtue's light, Shines brightest in affliction's night; And sees in darkness beams of hope. " 111 tidings never can surprise That heart, that fixed on God relies; Though waves and tempests roar around, Safe on the rock he stands, and sees The shipwreck of his enemies. And all their hope and glory drowned." KELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. 109 HEBEEWS, Chap, vi: verse 19. MAEK, Chap, xi: verse 22. 1 PETEE, Chap, i: verse 5. JAMES, Chap, v: verse 15. EOMANS, Chap, xii : verse 12. LAMENTA'NS, Chap, iii: verse 26. ACTS, Chap. XX ; verse 14. PSALM cxlv: verse 19. THE FAST-ANCHOliED SHIP. Both sure and steadfast. Heb. vi: 19. Lo ! where the war-ship with her tattered sail, Tho' late escaped the fury of the gale; At anchor safe within the bay she rides; Nor heeds the danger of the swelling tides: Though high aloft the furious storm still roars, Below, slie s sheltered by the winding shores. The church of Christ a war-ship is below, She spreads her sails to meet her haughty foe; Satan assails her with his fhrious blasts. Her sails are riven, bi'oken are her masts. A night of darkness finds her in some bay, She drops her anchors, and awaits the day; Faith, Hope, and Prayer, her anchors prove, With Resignation to the powers above. This engraving represents a ship riding by four anchors. To escape the rage of the storm at sea, she has sought shelter in the bay. Her sails are torn, and cordage damaged; she needs to undergo repairs. The gale still howls fearfully overhead; but protected by the land, she rides com- paratively in smooth water. The Church of God may be com- pared to n ship, and to a ship ol war, built by the great Architect who made heaven and earth — first launched when Adam fell overboard — chartered by di- vine love to take him in, with all his believing posterity, and convey them to the port of glory. Jehovah is her rightful owner: Im- manuel is her captain ; the Holy Spirit is her pilot; the Holy Bible is both 110 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. chart and compass; self-examination is her log-book; her pole-star is the star of Bethlehem, Under her great Captain, the ministers of religion take rank as officers; besides whom, there are a number of petty officers. Her crew consists of all those who "fol- low the Captain." Passengers, she carries none — all on board are " work- ing hands." This world is the tempestuous sea over which she makes her voyages. It is a dangerous sea ; rocks, shoals, and quicksands hide their deceitful heads beneath its dark blue waves; mount- ainous billows roll, furious storms descend, and treacherous whirlpools entice only to destroy. The voyage is from time to eter- nity. The good ship never puts back ; well stocked, she carries bread of life, and waters of salvation, in abundance ; no " southerly wind" ever afflicts her. The Church is a ship of war; she carries, a commission authorizing her to "sink, burn, and destroy" what- ever belongs to Beelzebub, the great enemy of mankind, and to ship hands in every quarter; therefore Beelzebub, being a "prince of the power of the air," conies out against her, armed with the four winds of heaven, and attacks her as he did the house of Job's eldest son. Bravely does she behave amid the etorm. She would weather the gale, were it not that there is treachery on board; some "Achan" compels her to "about ship," She runs into the bay of Promise, and casts iirst of ail the anchor of Hope. Though " per- plexed," she is " not in despair." Hope is as an anchor to the soul in the day of adversity. Hope, how- ever, is not sufficient ; another anchor divides the parting wave, even that of Faith. Faith takes hold of the promises made to the Church in her times of trial^ especially this one: " Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee," Prayer, con- sequently, "is let go" next. Ah! now she "takes hold on God;" now the vessel rightens; now she is steady. Nevertheless, she is not yet delivered. What more can she do? There is yet one more anchor on board : Be- signation, last of all, is received by the yielding wave. The good ship has done her duty; now she may lie still, and wait for the salvation of God, Soon it comes; heavenly breezes fill her flowing sails ; she is again under weigh for the port of glory — "Where all the ship's company meet Who sailed with their Savior beneath j With shouting, each other they greet, And triumph o'er trouble and death. The voyage of life's at an end, The mortal affliction is past. The age that in heaven they spend, Forever and ever shall last." EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. Ill PSALM cxxxiii: verse 1. EPHESL\NS, Chap, iv: verse 13. ^B COLOSSIANS, Chap, ii : verse 2. r PETER, Chap, iii: verse 8. s^^^oa^^IS ACTS, Chap, i: verse 14. 1 JOHN, Chap, i: verse 3. EPHESIANS, Chap, iv: verse 5. JOHN", Chap, xvii; verse 23. ■<«>i.iiiireii*iiNiiH<>Vv ''^' UNANIMITY. Endeavoring to keep the unity of the Spirit. Eph. iv: 3. loe, being many, are one body in Christ. Rom. xii: 5. ■So Look! where the soldiers form a hollow square, And thus the fortunes of the day repair; On every side a bristling front present, On which the fury of the foe is spent; "Union is strength" — 'gainst odds they win the day, And proud their banners o'er the field display : The camp, the Christian Chui'ch may sometimes teach, To gain a triumph, or to mount a breach: So when the armies of the cross jmite, They quickly put the alien foe to flight; When, up and doing, united and awake. They drive back Satan, ami his kingdom shake; The standard-bearer witli his brethren stands, I'y love united. Love binds hearts and bands, The iiag of Jesus high aloft he hears, That tells of victories won, by groans and tears; Of future victories, too, this is the sign, When all the kingdoms, Savior, shall be thine; Then let the heroes of the cross unite, And quickly put the alien foes to flight ; And win the world in great Messiah's rij I ight. J The soldiers are here seen formed into what is termed a hollow square. They h^ive been well-nigh beaten on the field of battle; this position is resorted to as a last effort; on every side they present an array of glitter- ing arms. The foe advances; still they stand their ground; they repel the onset; they change the fortunes of the day. By union, they rout the enemy, and gain a complete victory. Behold, says the Psalmist, how 112 EELIGIOUS EMBLEMS. good, and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity. It is not only good and pleasant, but essential to success. Christians have a work to do — a great work. Union is strength in religious warfare, as well as in military tactics. "United, we stand, divided we fall." It is a part of the plans of military com- manders to divide the forces of the enemy, both in the council and in the field ; so likewise it is the plan of the grand adversary of souls to divide Christians. The great Head of the Church has provided a principle which binds, nourishes, and consoli- dates the various members of the body together ; for we are all mem- bers one of another. If this principle is neglected, the army of the cross becomes easily dispersed. The prin- ciple is Love. An aged father, when dying, called his sons around his dying bed, and in order to show them the necessity of union among themselves, he com- manded a bundle of sticks, which he had provided, to be brought before him. Beginning with the eldest, he requested him to break the bundle; he could not. The next was called, and so on down to the youngest; all failed, upon which the old man cut the cord which bound them together, and they were easily broken one by one. Love is the cord that binds to- gether. Union alone supplies the lack of numbers, of talents, and of wealth. The minister of the gospel is the standard-bearer in the Chris- tian army; the membership are the soldiers of Jesus. If every soldier rallies round the standard, and all are determined to conquer or die, nothing can stand before them; they would drive back the powers of darkness, and make Apollyon fly. For want of union, antichrist and infidelity pre- vail, and sinners go unreclaimed. When professing Christians cease to vex each other, and turn the whole tide of their strength against the common foe, the kingdoms of this world will become the kingdoms ot our God, and of his Messiah, and he will reigu forever and ever. THE END. RELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES: BEING A SERIES OF EMBLEMATIC ENGRAVINGS, WITH WRITTEN EXPLANATIONS, MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATION'S AND RELIGIOUS REFLECTIONS, DESIGNBD TO ILLUSTRATE DIVINE TRUTH, IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CARDINAL PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIANITY. "J haoe used similitudes." Hosea, xii ; 10. BY WILLIAM HOLMES, MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL; AND JOHN ^\. BARBER, ADTHOB OF SEVERAL HISTORICAL AND RELIGIOUS WORKS, BRADLEY, GARRETSON & CO., PHILADELPHIA, No. 66 NORTH FOURTH STREET, WILLIAM GARRETSON & CO., GALESBURG, ILL., COLUMBUS, OHIO, NASHVILLE, TENN., HOUSTON, TEXAS, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 8 1875- JSntered according to Act of Congress, in the year mdccclxvi. By JOHN W. BARBER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticat. fintered according to Act of Congress, in the year mdcccxlviii. By JOHN W. BARBER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticut. RELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES. CONTENTS OF EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. «♦« PAGK Looking unto Jesus 7 Walking by Faith , 10 Tlie Sure Guide , 13 Charity, or Love 16 Pride and Humility 19 The Sacrifice 22 Ko Cross, No Crown 25 The Life-boat ' 28 Ol)edience and Wisdom 31 Danger of Presumption 34 Decision and Perseverance 37 Passion and Patience 40 The Conquering Christian 43 The Imperial Philanthropist - 46 The Wintry Atmosj)here 49 The Protected Traveler 52 The Pearl of Great Price 55 The Great Discovery 58 Passage through the Desert 61 Selfishness 64 The Imperial Passenger 67 Venturing by Faith 70 Path of Life and Way of Death 73 Past, Present, Future 76 Providence, Time, Eternity 79 Triumph of Christianity 83 (5) r-i Religious Allegories. HEBREWS, Chap, xii: verse 1. ISAIAH, Chap, xlv : verse 22. PSALM v: verse 3. I. JOHIT, Chap. V : verse 5. PSALM cxli: verse 8. PEOVERBS, Chap, iv: verse 25. PSALM cxix: verse 37 GALATIANS, Chap, ii: verse 20. LOOKING HN'TO JESUS. Looking unto Jesus. Hebrews xii: 2. Amid the world's vain pleasures, din, and strife, The Christian treads the upward path of life; Though sorely tempted to forsake the way, He presses onward still from day to day; On worldly honors he with scorn looks down, Content if he at last shall wear a crown; And worldly wealth without regret he leaves, He treasure has beyond the reach of thieves. The Siren Pleasure with voluptuous strain, Strives to ensnare him, but she strives in vain; His ear he closes to their idle noise, And hastens upward to celestial joj's; At God's right hand he owns an ample store Of joys substantial, lasting evermore; He looks to Jesm, his Almighty Friend, Nor fails at last to reach his journey's end. The Christian is here depicted mak- ing his way up the path of life. The wealth of this world is offered to him on condition that he will turn aside. He rejects the offer with disdain; he points upward, imitating that his treaa- (1) 8 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. ure is in heaven. Honors are presented ; these he despises also, content with tlie honor tliat comes from God. The vo- taries of sinful pleasures next address him; they promise all sorts of delights if he would stay and dwell with them. He closes his ear to their deceitful song; he looks upward to Jesus his Lord and his God, and taking up the song of an old pilgrim he goes on his way sing- ing :— "Thou wilt show to me the path of life, In thy presence is fullness of joy, Pleasures at thy right hand for evermore." But what will not men in general do in order to obtain those very things which the Christian rejects with so much dis- dain? What have they not done? An- swer, ye battle-fields that have heard the dying groans of so' many myriads ! Answer, ye death-beds that have lis- tened to the lamentations of the vota- ries of pleasure ! Answer, ye habita- tions of cruelty, where the life's blood of the victims of avarice oozes away from day to day, under the rod of the opj)ressor! And who or what is the Christian that these things have no in- fluence over him? Is he not a man? Yes; an altered man from what he was once; a new man. Old things have passed away. All things have become new. lie looks to Jesus. Here is where his great strength lies. Here is the power by which he overcometh the world, even by looking to Jesus. Do you ask what is this looking to Jesus ? What magic is there in this so power- ful? Listen! Our sins have separated us from God, for "all have sinned and come short of the glory of God." Death, temporal, has passed upon all men, as the forerunner of eternal death, except we repent and be converted. But how shall we repent and be converted? How shall we guilty ones dare to ap- proach the Holy God ? He is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. What shall we bring to gain his favor? Alas, for our poverty if it were to be bought with money! Alas, for our sinfulness if our own righteousness could have suf- ficed to recommend us to God ! Alas, for our impotence if we had been left unaided to descend Bethesda's Pool! Alas, for our blindness if we had been left to ourselves to discover a door of Hope. While in this plight Jesus comes to our relief. He brings a price — a right- eousness — a strength — a light. He is the light of the world — the Sun of righteousness. He shines and dispels the gloom. O, how cheering are his rays ! As the beams of the morning give hope and consolation to the be- nighted traveler in some dreary wilder- ness, so does Jesus, the "day spring from on high," give light and hope to those who sit in "darkness, and in the shadow of Kieath." The light of love and the hope of heaven. The path of duty is revealed, the promise of immortality is given. Do you ask yet again, what is meant by looking to Jesus? Again listen. The exercise of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. This is what is meant. Man is made capa- ble of confidence in man. In this con- sists the charms of domestic felicity. A man without confidence in his race is an isolated being; he is cut oif from all the sympathies of his kind. Just so, man without confidence in God, is separated from him. He is in the world without God, and without hope. Faith unites man to God. The Chris- tian is a man of faith. He is united to God; he walks by faith, he lives by faith. The life which he lives is a life of faith in the Son of God who loved him, and gave himself — O, wondrous gift — for him. He looks to Jesvs, as unto an " offering for sin." He receives it as a faithful saying, worthy of all acceptation, that "he hath made him who knew no sin, to be a sin-offering for us, that we might be made the righteousness of EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, 9 God in him." That is, that we might be completely saved by him. This is the ground of his rejoicing, that Jesus hath made "full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world," since "he by the grace of God tasted death for every man." He regards his sins as being of such a nature that nothing but the "precious blood of Christ" could avail to purge them away. Thus the man of God considers Jesus. He goes from strength to strength, making mention of bis righteousness, who died for his sins, and rose again for his jus- tification. Such, however, is man's nature, such are his wants, trials, and destiny, that the Lord Jesus Christ has, for his sake, assumed various offices and titles. Does mlin feel his helplessness, that he can not of himself do any thing that is good, he is invited to look Irom self to Jesus as the "]\Iighty God." Look unto me, and be ye saved all ye ends of the earth, for beside me there is no God. While others look at their own weakness, at the difficulties of the way, at the strength and numbers of their foes, the man of faith looks from these to Jesus. Is he tempted to think that after all he shall never see the King in his beauty? He may look to Jesus as his "Advocate" with the Father, who takes care of his interest in the court of heaven, and who is no less watchful over his affairs below. Does he need a subject calculated to fill his mind with mean ideas of self? He looks to Jesus aa " tlie tconderful,^' wondei'ful indeed. God made man for man to die. In his birth, in his life, in his death, in his resurrection, and ascension. He is won- derful! In his character, in his ojDera- tions, both of nature and of grace, in drawing, softening, sanctifying, and glorifj'ing the believer, he is wonderful ! O, the depth both of the wisdom and the goodness of God! Does he find the affairs of eai'th too intricate for him, and that the children of this world are wiser in their genera- tion than the children of light? He looks to Jesus as his "Counselor" who is able to guide the feet of his saints. In the time of trouble the Christian looks to his counselor and finds him a "very jDresent help," and no exiDcnsive charges, or ruinous issues follow. He looks to Jesus as the Author or Begin- ner of Faith, who has called him to be a Christian, who has pointed out to him the proner path of duty, and who will at last award to him a crown of righteousness. Painters, sculptors, and others, have, in order to be perfect in their art, stud- ied models of excellence. The Chris- tian studies Jesus; he is his "model " or "example." Are his trials many? Is his cross heavy? He considers Jesus who "endured the cross and despised the shame." Is he poor? "The Son of man had no where to lay his head." Is he rich? For the rich are also called; he considers him "who was rich, and for our sakes become poor." Is he tempted with the glories of the present woi-ld? To the Savior "all the king- doms of this world and the glory of them" were offered. Is he persecuted? He looks to Jesus on the cross and prays "Father forgive them." Thus he looks from earthly glory to that far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. From earthly possessions to that "inheritance that fadeth not away," and from earthly pleasures to those that are spiritual and eternal. Adopting the language of the poet, he looks unto Jesus as "His all! His theme, his inspiration, and his crown; His strength in age, liis rise in low estate, His soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth, his world; His light in darkness, and his life in death, Mis boast through time, bliss through eternity, Eternity too short to sing his praise." 10 RELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, EOMANS, Chap. X : verse 17. HEBREWS, Chap, xi: verses 8, 10 PSALM Ixxiii: verse 24. HEBREWS, Chap, x: verse 38. JOB, Chap, xiii : verse 15. HEBREWS, Chap, xi : verse 6. PSALM xxiii : verse 4. PSALM cxxxviii : verse 7. WALKING BY FAITH. For we walk by faith, not by sight. 2 Cor. 7. The convert here turns on the world his back, And walkij by faith along the narrow track; Before him mists arise, and o'er his head Thick clouds of darkness roll, and round him A bottomless abyss beneath extends, [spread; And still new danger to his pathway lends, While ever and anon, a lurid wreath Comes rising upward from the pit of death. Though all around him spreads the gloom of night. His footsteps sparkle with a brilliant light ; His Lamp— the Book of God— doth brightly ohine, And pours upon his path a light divine. Between the murky columns as they rise, Sometimes he sees a palace in the skies; His heart is cheered, nor death nor danger dreads, While circumspectly on his way he treads. Thus, step by step, he walks the narrow road. Till at the end he finds himself with God. Here is depicted a man jiist starting from what appears to be solid ground. to walk upon a narrow plank, stretched across a deep gulf, and which ends no- body knows whither. Before him thick clouds of mist and vapor slowly but continually ascend from the gulf or pit; rolling clouds of pitchy blackness also ascend. They spread themselves around him; in wreathy columns thej'' stand before, and hide the future from his vision. Still he proceeds; he is a won- EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES 11 der to many, who can not tell what to make of it. The man himself, however, appears to know very well what he is do- ing. He holds in his hand a book, which he reads as he goes along; though it may seem to some unsafe, yet he linds it advantageous rather than otherwise. The book, he thinks, throws light upon his path; now and then the wind blows the clouds of smoke a little on one side, and ho beholds, apparently far off in the distance, a mansion; this is the palace he has heard of; it is thither the way leads, thither he would go. The sight of the mansion above, whenever he is so fortunate as to be- hold it, inspires him with courage and fortitude ; he bears cheerfully his pres- ent labors and sufferings, and meets, Without fear, any new foe. He walks onward, stej) by step, looking well at his footstejos; at last arrives at the end of his journey; this opens ujDon him quite abruptly. Suddenly he beholds right before him the mansion shining gloriously. He enters — he is made heartily welcome — he is amply repaid for all his labors and sufferings. This may be considered as an alle- gorical representation of the Christian walking by faith through this world to the next; the young Christian, when he embraces Christ, turns his back upon the world, its vanities, and sinful pleas- ures. He renounces it as an object of trust and hope; he leads a new life ; he walks a new path. It is the path of Faith. He knows not what is before him in the present life, whether sick- ness or health, prosperity or adversity; clouds of darkness, of temptation, and trouble are sometimes made to arise in his path, by the enemy of his soul, to discourage him in the way he has chosen. Yet he pursues. The Word of God is his constant, best companion; it is a light unto ail his goings; by it he cleanses his way; though it occu- pies much of his time, so that many think it will prove his ruin, yet he finds it exceedingly helpful ; nay, he would not be without it for all the world. In the midst of his labors and suf- ferings, he frequently enjoj^s rich fore- tastes of the happiness of heaven ; these are refreshing to his soul, strengthen- ing and inspiring him with zeal for the Lord of hosts. His light afflictions he reckons are not worthy to be compared with the glory of which he has had an earnest. Not knowing what shall be- fall him from hour to hour, and from day to day, he goes forward trusting in God, to whom he has committed the keeping of all his concerns, soul and body, for time and eternity. By and by he finishes his course; he has kept the fixith, and an abundant entrance is administered to him into the ever- lasting kingdom of Jesus Christ. The man who walks by sight, looks only at the things which are seen, and which, of course, are temporal. He looks at and regards the things of earth as worthy of his esteem, of his love, of his labor, of his sufferings; houses and lands, power and renown, and whatso- ever tends to supply the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life — these are the objects to which he directs all his prayers, all his pur- l^oses, and all his toils; he lives for this, and, if necessary, he will die for it. He puts fiiith in nobody. He will have bonds, and seals, and witnesses for all and in all his transactions. He will not trust the Almighty with any of his concerns, but manages them all himself He asks no favors at his hands ; if, indeed, he does, at any time put up a petition to God, it is that he will ask nothing of him. How different with the man of Faith. He sees the things of earth and knows their value. It is enough for him that they are temporal. He values them simply as they bear upon Eternity. He looks at the things that are not seen, which are eternal; his soul, and 12 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, whatever tends to inform and purify it ; his Savior, and whatever will ad- vance his cause on the earth ; his God, and what will glorify him; Heaven, and whatever will help him on his way thither; Hell, and what will enable him to escape it. He looks at man as a fellow-traveler to Eternity, to the Judgment, puts a generous confidence in him, and labors to benefit him tem- porarily and spiritually. His thoughts, his words, his actions, are all regulated according to his eternal interest. A man must live before he can walk. So it is spiritually. He lives a life of faith in the Son of God. Hence it is not difficult to walk by faith. He is but a sojourner here. His citizenship is in heaven. He is a denizen of im- mortality. Hence to him "Faith lends its realizing light, The clouds disperse, the shadows fly; The Invisible appears in siglit, And God is seen by mortal eye; The things unknown to feeble sense, Unseen by reason's glimmering ray, With strong commanding evidence, Their heavenly origin display." Faith is the foundation of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Faith becomes a foundation on which Hope builds her glorious temple of future happiness. The spies who brought an evil report of the land of Promise, walked by sight. They saw nothing besides the high walls, the num- ber of inhabitants, the gigantic Ani- kim. Not so Joshua and Caleb. They saw only the promise, and the power of Jehovah, which they believed was sufficient to bring it to pass. While the former perished with those who believed not, they, walking by Faith, entered the goodly land and possessed it for an inheritance forever. In the days of the Eedeemer, there "were some who saw only the Babe of Bethlehem, the Carpenter's Son, the Nazarene, the man of sorrows, the crucified Malefactor, and v4io dreamed of a temporal kingdom. These all walked by sight. Others beheld in him the Mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace, the Mes- siah, the desire of all nations, the Lamb of God, the Son of God, the King of Israel, who looked for a spiritual king- dom that would fill the whole earth, whose dominion should be forever and ever. These all walked by faith, and according to their faith even so was it done unto them. By faith, the good old Simeon took up the child Jesus in his arms, and said, "Lord, now lettest thou thy serv- ant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." By faith, the friends of the man sick of the palsy broke open the roof of the house,, and lowered the sick man down into the midst where Jesus was, and expe- rienced his salvation. By faith, Joseph of Arimathea, went to Pilate and begged the body of Jesus, and laid it in hia own sepulcher, not doubting but that it would be raised again according to the Scriptures. By faith, Paul, when brought before kings and princes of the eai'th, declared boldly the gospel of Christ and his hope in the resurrection of the dead. By faith, the disciples, who were in Jerusalem when it was encompassed by the Eoman armies, left the city and fled to the mountains, and thus escaped punishment in the overthrow thereof. By faith, John Huss and Jerome, of Prague, delivered their bodies to be burned, not accepting deliverance. By faith, Luther burnt the Bull of excom- munication, and repaired to the city of Worms, not fearing the wrath of Pope, Emperor, or Devil. By faith, the Pil- grim Fathers braved the fury of the ocean and the violence of the savage, ani planted a habitation for God in the wilderness, yea, a refuge for the children of men. RELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES. 13 JOH^, Chap, xvii: verse 17. PSALM xix: verse 7. PROYEEBS, Chap. XXX : • verse 5. ISAIAH, Chaj). xl: verse 8. LUKE, Chap, viii : verse 11. MATTHEW, Chap, xxiv: verse 35. 2 PETER, Chap, i : verse 21. PSALM cxix: verse 9. THE SURE GUIDE. Thy loord is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my -path. Ps. cxix: 105. Ye do loell that ye take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place. 2 Peter, i : 19. AiiONE, bewildered, and in pensive mood, A traveler wanders thi-ough a pathless wood; Forward he goes, then back, then round and round, And lists in vain to catch a friendly sound. Soon night o'ertakes him on her ebon car, Robed in thick darkness, without moon or star; No lonely light gleams through the misty aii', And tremblingly he wanders in despair; At length he sinks, and now for once he prays, And lo! a compass close beside him lays; A light he gets and holds it at its side, That he may well consult the faithful guide; Within his breast hope now exulting springs, And painful doubt, and fear away he flings; But now false guides advance across his track; One strives with speeches fair to turn him back; Another bawls with bold and blust'ring shout: Here! through this pleasant opening lies your I tell you, says a third, it is not so; [route. This, and this only, is the way to go; He shuns them all, and trims his light anew, And heeds his compass, and it guides him through. An hjDncst traveler having, on his ■way home, to pass through a lonely forest, loses his way. Bewildered, he knows not which way to turn. Now he goes forward ; now backward. Then, after wandering about for some time, finds himself where he first starts from. He is discouraged; he listens, 14 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. hoping to catch from the whispering winds some tidings of companionship or safety. 'T is all in vain. Thick m.ists now gather beneath the leafy can- opy. The shadows of evening prevail, and night wraps the earth in her mantle of pitchy darkness. He gropes his way with fear and trembling; ho becomes exhausted; hopeless and overcome, at last he sinks on the wet ground. For awhile he muses. A thought strikes him — he will pray. He lifts up his hands in prayer, and as they fall again at his side, he feels a something. Be- hold ! it is a compass. Now he strikes a light, and looks with intense interest on his new-found guide. Hope now swells his bosom ; he will again see his beloved home. Doubt and fear are thrown to the winds, and he springs up to pursue his journey. As he moves forward with a light in one hand and compass in the other, sev- eral persons, attracted b}'- the light, rush toward him and proffer their assistance. One pointing out an opening to the left, roomy and level withal, with many fair speeches and much earnestness, presses him to take it. Another, pointing to the right, in a very confident manner, urges him to take that. It is smoother and less obstructed than the way ahead. The traveler, honest in his purpose of finding home, and relying upon his compass, rejects all their offers of ad- vice. He trims his lamp afresh, looks again at his guide, and following im- plicity the way it directs, he gets out of the wood and arrives home in peace. The lonely forest denotes this pres- ent world. The traveler, man ; home, happiness; the compass, the Holy Bible; the light, the Holy Spirit ; the false guides, those deceitful directors and false doctrines that abound in the world. The world, apart from the sacred light and holy influences of heaven, is dark, cheerless, and impenetrable. Through sin, the darkness of ignorance and the shadows of death prevail. "Darkness has covered the earth, and gross dark- ness the minds of the people." Every-where, snares and pitfalls abound; dangers, pain, and death. With the desire of happiness strongly im- planted in his bosom, man wanders in the midst of misery and uncertainty. What he is, what he must do, whither he is going, he can not tell. What is life ? what is death ? He knows not. He tastes of life with bitterness ; he approaches death with horror. If there is a God, what is his character? how shall he worship him? If there be a state after death, what is its nature? where is the place of its abode? In this state of distressing anxiety, he wanders on, 2:)athless, guideless, light- less, -hopeless — he is lost! In the an- guish of his soul, he exclaims, "Who will show me any good?" "God, for- ever blessed," hears his prayer. He has been tenderly watching him while in trackless mazes lost, and in his prov- idence presents him with a Bible. He opens it — he reads it. Wonderful Book I It tells him all about the darkness; of what it is made, and how it came to over- spread the earth.. It tells, too, of a sun, a glorious sun, that can disperse the gloom; "who he is, and how he becomes the light of the world. It points out to him, more distinctly than he ever saw, the snares and pitfalls, and the way to escape them. Wherefore pain, and how to endure it. Why the desire of happi- ness is implanted in the human breast, and how it may be gratified. It makes known to him what he is, what he ought to do, where he is going, and what he may become. It tells him of life, and how to enjoy it; of death^ and how to strip it of its terrors. It reveals to him a God, tremendous in power, glorious in holiness, accurate in justice, infinite in love. The Almighty Maker and Euler of the Universe. It prescribes the way in which he would be worshiped, through "Jesus Christ the Eighteous." The sacrifices he would EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES 15 accept, "a broken and a contrite heart;" this is more acceptable to him than " Arabia sacrificed And all her spicy mountains in a tiame."' The Bible reveals to him Futurity. It raises the curtain of the hidden world. Here he beholds the tormenting flame, the parched tongue, the useless prayer; there, the glory of Paradise, the bliss of heaven, the song of praise. It becomes to him just what he needs. He has found a way, a guide, a light to hap- piness. Still, he understands its mighty truths but imperfectly, yet he reads on; scales fall from his eyes; he beholds men as trees walk- ing. But the consolations of hope are his; he has found God; he seeks for wisdom at its fount — for light at its source. "Open my eyes," he prays, '" that I may behold the won- ders of thy Law." Light celestial shines upon the sacred page; he reads and understands enough for knowledge, enough for duty, and enough for happiness. As soon as the honest inquirer after truth has discovered the right path, begins to walk in it, and lets his light shine, numerous false guides appear and proffer their services. While he was stumbling along in darkness and in ignorance, the devil gave no concern about him. Now he is very much interested in his welfare. He sends his servants to put the poor man right. One of these endeavors to dissuade him from using the Bible; for, says he, "it is full of mystery; it is impossible to understand it. I, for one, will never be- lieve what I can not understand. Follow reason; that is the surest guide." "Indeed, friend," replies the enlightened man, "it was by following reason that I was led into the possession of the Bible, and my Bible has led me to God. I acknowledge it is mysterious, wonderfully so; yet it has led me right hith- erto, and I am determined to follow it. The nature of its secret influence over my soul I can not tell. The nature of the power by which it guides aright, under all circumstances of life, I know not. Neither does the mai-iner understand the power by which the compass operates so beneficially under all circum- stances — of storm and calm, light and dark- ness, heat and cold. It is ever a sure guide. He believes in it; he follows it. Were the sailor no more to weigh anchor and spread the flowing sail, until he understands the mysteries of the compass, verily, he would have to learn another trade- for ships would rot in harbor, conmierce would cease, and in- tercourse between nations come to an end. And what is worthy of remark, the common sailor-boy understands just as much of the practical use of the compass as the captain; cease, then, to persuade me further. The Bi- ble is my compass, my sure guide; I will fol- low it." Other false directors of different names, but all of them having the same end in view, viz. : to make him distrust his guide, and turn him out of the way, ofter to him their services; some press the matter one way, and some another. His reply to all is, "Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way, but by taking heed thereto according to thy word." Thus he believes in it practically, follows its directions implicitly, and it guides him safely by every slough of despond, over every mount- ain of difficulty, through every strait of dis- tress, and every storm of tribulation, and con- ducts him, at last, in triumph to the home of the blessed. "Take from the world the Bible, and yon have taken the moral chart by which alone its population can be guided. Ignorant of the nature of God, and only guessing at their own immortality, the tens of thousands would be as mariners, tossed on a wide ocean, without a pole star and without a compass. The blue lights of the storm-fiend would burn ever in the shrouds; and when the tornado of death rushed across the waters, there would be heard nothing but the shriek of the terrified, and the groan of the despairing. It were to mantle the earth with a more than Egyptian dark- ness; it were to dry up the fountains of hu- man happiness; it were to take the tides from our waters and leave them stagnant, and the stars from our heavens and leave them in sackcloth, and the verdure from our valleys and leave them in barrenness; it were to make the present all recklessness, and the fu- ture all hopelessness; the maniac's revelry, and then the fiend's imprisonment; if you could annihilate the precious volume which tells us of God and of Christ, and unveils im- mortality, and instructs in duty, and woos to glory. Sucii is the Bible. Prize ye it, and study it more and more. Prize it, as ye are immortal beings, for it guides to the New Jerusalem. Prize it, as ye are intellectual be- ings, "for it giveth light to the simple." 16 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 1 JOHN, Chap, iii: verse 1. GALATIANS, Chap, v: Terse 22. 1 JOHN, Chap, iv: verse 7. 1 THESSAL'NS, Chap, iv: verse 9. EOMANS, Chap, xii: verse 9. TITUS, Chap, iii: verse 45. EOMANS, Chap, v: verse 8. EOMANS, Chap, viii: verses 35, 39. CHARITY OR LOVE. Above all things put on charity. Col. iii: 14 filling of the law. Rom. xiii: 10.— — Love is the ful- God is love. 1 John iv: 8. The seraph Charity from heaven descends, And o'er the workl on shining pinions bends; Round mourning mortals tender as a dove, She spreads her wing and soothes in tones of love ; Pours living balm into the wounded breast, And aids the beggar, though in tatters dress'd; The orphan's plaint she heeds, and widow's sigh. And smiles away the tear from sorrow's eye. Like some fair fount that through the desert flows, Fringed with the myrtle and the Persian rose. She scatters blessings all along her track, And hope and joy to want and woe brings back; And when the last faint sob is heard no more, Up to her native bowers again she '11 soar. Behold here a being of heavenly ap- pearance. The light of love irradiates her brow; her eyes melt with tender- ness; her countenance wears the aspect of benevolence; her heart bleeds with sympathy; her hands are strong to save; the commiserating Angel has come from a distant part; on the wings of love and compassion she has come; she has left all to succor and to save the helpless, the wretched, and the lost. See her at her godlike work. In the foreground she is raising a miserable being in rags and tatters from a pit of mire and filth. With her right hand she is pouring the balm of life into the EELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES, 17 wounds of the dying. Look behind her; see the widow and the fatherless. They have come to bless her; with hearts gushing with grateful emotion they follow her with their jiraise; she has rescued them from the gripe of the oppressor; they were hungry and she fed them, naked and she clothed them, and their prayers like a cloud of in- cense go up to heaven in behalf of their compassionate friend. Before she leaves the district of pain, want, and wretchedness, Charity, for that is her name, builds a house for the reception of the disti'essed; here she provides what is necessary, appoints her officers and attendants, leaves wholesome in- structions, then amid the praises, thanks- givings, and benedictions of those whom her love has blessed, she spreads again her wings and soars to her own abode, there to banquet on the remembrance of her deeds. This engraving represents, first of all, the divine Charity of the ever-blessed Redeemer. He left the glories and happiness of heaven to visit our dis- eased, our lost world. Beaming with love, melting with tenderness, filled with benevolence, on the wings of com- passion he flew to our relief How com- passionate ! how sym])athizing ! He becomes a slave himself that he may preach deliverance to the captives, and the opening of the prison-doors to them which are bound, and that he might proclaim the accejotable year of the Lord. See him at his work of merc3\ The world is an aceldama, a vast Lazar- house, a conquered province, subject to sin and death. He scatters health around him; he gives eyesight to the helpless blind ; he bids the lame to walk ; the hungry ho fills with good things ; the very dead he restores to life and joy. He beholds the weeping widow, and hastens to wipe away her tears. He visits the house of mourning and fills it with the song of praise. Behold him ascend the Mount of Blessing. He takes his seat; heavenly light shines around him; the majest} of holiness encircles his brow. Love divine love, looks out from his won- dx'ous eyes; the manna of wisdom drops from his lips; he assembles around him the poor, the mourners, the persecuted, and showers upon them the blessings of an endless life. He rescued the con- quered province from the grasp of the foe, destroyed the power of death, and opened unto man the j^ortals of imm.or- tal life. "He wept that man might smile ; he bled that man might never die ; he seized our dreadful right, the load sustained, and hove the mountain from our guilty world."- He established his Church as an hospital for the spiritually diseased, appointed his own ministei'S and officers, gave his own laws for the guidance thereof, and, having perfected his work of Charity, he ascended again to the mansions of bliss, there to see the effects "of the travail of his soul and be satisfied." As was the divine Founder, such is the religion he estab- lished. Christianity is a noble system of Charity. It teaches man to feel another's woe, to seek another's good, to breathe, instead of revenge, forgive- ness and affection. For the aged, halt, the maimed, and the blind it erects asylums of comfort and repose ; for the suffering and the sick, hospitals ; and, above all, taking into account man's spiritual wants, man's deathless inter- ests as a candidate for eternity, it pro- vides temples for religious worship, where the ignorant may be instructed, the guilty jiardoned, the polluted sanc- tified, and made meet for heaven. Other religions are a fable, a delusion, a shadow. Christianity is alone benevo- lent — in its founder, in its essence, and in its operations, intensely benevolent. Infidelity, in all its appeals, professes charity and benevolence. "What have its apostles done to. benefit mankind? In what book arc their "acts" record- ed? To what lands have they carrie EELiaiOUS ALLEGOKIES. ACTS, Chap. XX : verse 24. PHILLIPIANS, Chap, iii: verse 8. REVELATION, 5: Chap, xii: , , , / / verse 11. j .f. ACTS, Chap. XV : verse 26. REVELATION, Chap, vi: verse 9. HEBREWS. Chap, x: verse 34. HEBREWS, Chap, xi: verse 37. MATTHEW, Chap. XX : verse 28. THE SACRIFICE. Whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall save it. Luke ix : 24. He died for all. 2 Cor. v: 15. We ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. 1 John iii: 16. See here the Warriors on the battle-field In dread array with gleaming spear and shield; They rush together with the mighty roar Of stormy ocean on a rock-bound shore; Shields strike on shields, helmets on helmets clash, In pools of purple gore the Legions splash. From Latium's host the sound of triumph rings. And Victory guides them on her crimson wings; Then the brave Roman, fired with patriot zeal. His life devoted for his country's weal; The victors then in dire amazement stood, As on he swept like a destroying flood; His blood-stained sword thi'ough crest and corselet sank. Like Death's own angel, swift he strewed each rank; Atl?ngth he fell, and Rome's proud banner waved Its folds triumphant o'er a nation saved. Behold, here, the battle-field; the warriors are seen arrayed in all the pompons circumstance of war. Armed with shield and javelin, they stand pre- pared for dreadful combat. See! the ranks are broken; one is seen rushing into the midst of the enemy; on he sweeps like a tornado; rio:ht and left he hurls the blood-stained spear; he cuts his way through ; the foe, astounded EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 23 at his daring intre^jidity, give back. Again the}' rally, and the hero falls covered with a hundred wounds; he has, however, effected his object — the ranks are broken; his comrades follow up the advantage thus gained; rushing into the breach they rout the foe, and soon victory sits perched upon their banner. The Romans, being at one time en- gaged in battle against the Latins, the latter had the advantage, and victory Was about to decide in their favor, when Publius Decius, observing how things went, fired with a generous zeal, deter- mined to sacrifice his life for his country's welfai'e. He threw himself upon the ranks of the enemy, and after having committed great slaughter among them, fell overwhelmed with wounds. His countrymen, inspired by his heroic ex- ample, rallied their forces, renewed the combat, fought with great bravery, and gained a complete victory. Decius left behind him a son, who in like manner sac- rificed his life in the war with the Etrus- cans; also a grandson, who sacrificed him- Belf in the war waged against Pyrrhus. His example influenced his countrymen down to the last of the Romans. The hero sacrificing his life for his country's good represents the Christian missionary falling in the midst of hea- then lands. The young man already be- longs to the sacramental host; devoutly attached to his Savior, burning with zeal for his glory, he longs to do something to advance his kingdom on the earth. The two armies he knows are in the field; long, fierce, and bloody, has been the contest. O! if he were permitted to turn the battle to the gate. That he may see distinctly the state of things, he ascends the mount of Vision ; in one direction he beholds Africa bleeding and prostrate beneath the powers of evil; he sees tribe waging against tribe bloody and cruel wars; rivers run red with the blood of its slaughtered mill- ions: its mountains are crimsoned with human sacrifices; its valleys resound with the wild yells of demon-wori^hip- ers. In Central Africa he sees forty millions ignorant, cruel, and supersti- tious, covered with the blackness of night; every-where cruelty reigns ram- pant, enslaving and destroying millions of immortal souls; and as he bends over this mass of woe, he thinks he hears Africa "weeping for her children" as she "stretches out her hands unto God."' He turns his eyes in another di- rection, and he beholds China — vast, populous China — and infidel refinement, mixed with abominable vices jirevails ; one vast chain binds them fast to the pictured idols of their own creating; there they are ignorant of Jehovah, and Jesus Christ whom he has sent, without hope in the world. He ventures to look still further. Now he beholds the myriads of India crushed beneath a gigantic sj'stem of error — the growth of ages. The rivers as they roll, the mountains as they rise, the valleys as they open, all proclaim the deep degradation of the people. "They have priests, but they are im- posters and murderers ; and altars, but they are stained with human blood ; and objects of worship, but they sacrifice to devils and not to God. The countless mass is at worship, before the throne of Satan, glowing as with the heat of an in- fernal furnace, with rage, lust, and cru- elty for their religious emotions. He looks again; their demon-worship is over, but are they satisfied ? How eager their looks! how objectless and restless their movements! how the living mass of misery heaves and surges, and groans and travails in pain together. He be- holds them "as travelers into Eternity; how vast the procession they form, how close their ranks, how continuous the line, how constant and steady the advance! An angry cloud hangs over them, which moves as they move, and ever and anon emits a lurid flash ; it is stored with the materials of judicial 24 RELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES wrath. Thousundsof them have reached the edge of a tremendous gulf; it is the gulf of perdition, and they are stand- ing on the very brink. God of mercy, they are falling over! Tliey are gone ! " Finally, he looks at home; hei-e, in his beloved land, he sees millions of immortal souls for whom Christ died, shut up in unbelief and ignoi'ance. Slaves, doomed to labor in desi^air, and to die without hope. "From Greenland's icy mountains, BVom India's coral strand, "Where Afric's .sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call hiin to deliver Their land from error's chain." He hears the call; it sinks deep into his heart. He burns to carry to Africa the tidings of the God of Love; to China the system of Eternal Truth; to India the sacrifice of the Son of God; to his oppressed countrj^men the Liberty that maketh "free indeed." Viewing the vast and deadly plague that deso- lates the earth, he longs to carry into the midst thereof the censer of incense, that the plague may be stayed, and spiritual health every-where established. In the spirit of devotion he exclaims, "here am I, send me." "My life and blood T here present, If for thy truth they may be spent." Now he selects his field of labor; the tear of love and friendship bedews his cheek; the parting hand is given; the last fiirewoll breaks from his trembling lips; he flies on the wings of the wind to meet the foe. Soon he is at the post of duty ; he flings the torch of heavenly love into the midst of midnight dark- ness; powerfully he wioMs the sword of truth against gigantic forms of error. He wrestles with the man of sin and pre- vails; the might of God is with him; the enemy falls before him ; he takes pos- session of his strong places. The banner of Immanuel opens its folds triumphant to the breeze; soon the infant Church lifts up its voice, "Hosanna, hosanna in the highest." But in the struggle the hero falls. Through the influence of the deadly climate, or through the deadlier pas- sion of the ferocious natives, he falls. Far from home and friends he falls, and •'unknellcd and uncoffined " he is borne to the house appointed to all the living; the earth closes over him; not a stone tells where he lies; but his object is effected, the seed is sown. The tree of Life is planted, whose leaves shall be for the healing of a nation's curse. The nation that smote him by and by shall remember him whom they pierced, and mourn deeply because of the mad- ness of their guilt. He is crowned with glory, honor, and immortality; the brightest diadem in heaven's own gift is his; he wears it as his due. He has fallen, but like Sampson, he slew more dying than when he was alive. The Temple of Error is over- thrown, the tree of gospel liberty is watered by the blood of its martyrs; thus has it ever been from the time of the proto-marlyr to him of Erromanga. Every stroke received is a victory gained, every death a triumph. The sacrilicing spirit of the brave Eoman lived in his immediate descendants and fired a whole nation with the love of heroic deeds; it is so with the Christian hero, and to much better purpose. Living he was located; his sphere of usefulness was limited; now he possess- es a ubiquity of presence; lie is every- where animating the Church of God by his example; and she is animated; the spot where he fell becomes a recognized l^art of her possessions. EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES 25 MATTHEW, Chap, x: verse 38. 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, iii: verse 12. GALATIAXS, Chap, vi : verse 12. PHILLIPPINS, Chap, iii: verse IS. 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, ii : verse 12. MATTHEW, Chap, xix: verses 21, 22. MATTHEW, Chap, xvi: verse 24. HEBREWS, Chap, xii: verse 2. NO CROSS, NO CPvOWN. Whosoever, therefore, shall he ashamed of me, of him shall the Son of Man be ashamed. Mark viii : 38. S«E where the Cross of duty stands upright, Above it, shines the Crown with radiant light; Right in the narrow way the Cross it stands, And all the space completely it commands; On either side behold! vast rocks arise, Expand their width, and reach the topmost skies; See numbers there, who fain the Crown would have, But will not touch the Cross their souls to savej They seek some other way, but 'twill not do, They wander on, and f nd eternal woe. But one is seen advancing right ahead, And like his Lord — the Cross he will not dread lie takes it up — 'tis feathers — nothing more. He travels onward faster than before; He loves the Cross, nor ever lays it down, Till he receives instead the starry Crown. On a gently rising ground, a cross of somewhat large dimensions is seen to stand erect; above it, and suspended in the air. a bright crown sparkles with a brilliant light. On both sides of the Cross rocks, vast and precipitous, lift up their tops to tlie lieaveusj on I either side they extend as far as the j eye can reach. Many j^ersons are seen ' going round the base of the mountain chain; their object a])pears to bo to get 'the Crown; it is theirs, if they will but get it according to the coinlition proposed. They have been trying to 26 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOKIES. go through the narrow passage, hut the wooden cross blocks up the entrance; they never think of moving that, although they try to climb the mount- ain barrier, which is much more diffi- cult. See! one is now attempting to ascend, but it is all in vain ; there is no other waj' than through the chasm. Away they go, wandering round and round ; some are seen falling off a precipice, they are dashed to pieces; others lose themselves among dark labyrinths, and some are torn to pieces by wild beasts. All come to a bad end; not one of them obtains the Crown. One, however, is seen alone, march- ing up to the terrible Cross; he walks with a firm step. Decision is his name; he goes right wp to the Cross, he quickly throws it down; it is only a few inches in the gix)und ; he takes it up, its weight is nothing, for it is hollow. He carries it to the place appointed, lays it down, and receives the glittering Crown, and beai'S it away in triumph. By the Cross here is signified re- ligious duties; by the Crown, immor- tality in heaven; those who pass by the Cross and wander round the wall, rep^ resent those who think of heaven, but neglect duty; the inan who boldly takes up tiie Cross, the faithful Chris- tian. Many persons think about heaven, who, alas! will never arrive there; nay, they do more, they actually set out for it, perhaps make a ])rofession of re- ligion; they do not like the idea of be- ing lost, submit to a partial reformation, and make an approach toward the per- formance of religious duties. They just obtain a sight of them, and they are frightened ; this is the Cross. What is there in the cross so dreadful? Let ns see. Of all who present themselves as candidates for heaven, it is required that they become poor in spirit, humble as a little child, penitent for «in, " per- fect and pure, as he is pure ;" that they do deny self, crucify the flesh, mortify the body, subdue inordinate desires, set the affections on things above, hun- ger and thirst after righteousness, for- give enemies, submit to persecution for Christ's sake; to exercise a con- stant watchfulness over themselves, and against the world and the devil. The hand, if it oflFends, must be cut off — the eye plucked out. They are told of the straight gate," the narrow way, the yoke, the burden, the lace, the warfiire, etc. Yea, the whole man is to be brought under new influences, governed by new principles, and to live for new ends. Self-denial, self-discipline, and self-conquest, are made indispensable prerequisites for the kingdom of heaven. This is the Cross ; it stands in the path of life; to pro- ceed, it must be embraced. Christ is "the way" to God. His atonement, ex- ample, doctrines, commandments; there is no other way, there can be no other ; a wall of adamant, wide as earth, high as heaven, meets us in our attempts to find one, on which stands inscribed, in letters of light, "He that en-tereth not by the door, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber." Religious duties are irksome and dis- agreeable to the carnal mind; to the unconverted; it is their nature to be so. By them a man may know what he is, whether he is converted or not; the Cross is a mirror. Religious duties are imposed, not that by performing them we may earn a title to heaven, but because they are necessary for the purification of our moral nature, through the grace of Christ, that we may be- come meet to be partakers of the in- heritance of the Saints in light. To neglect the Cross is to neglect all ; it is to go to the feast without the wedding garment ; it is to go forth to meet the bridegroom without light and without oil in our vessels. We may substitute something else for the Cross, such as morality, philos- ophy, or even works of painful pen- EELIGIOUS ALLEGOl^IES. nance. It will be all in vain; as lone as ^e continue unwashed, unjustified, unsanctified, we are unsafe — in momentary danger of hell fire. There is no neutrality in this war. In revolutions of States and Empires, those who do not take up arms against the foe, are deemed as enemies; it is so here. "He that is not with me is against me, and he that gathereth not with me scatterelh abroad." This is the conclusion of the whole matter. When Christ comes to judge the world, all who will not now take up the Cross will be regarded as enemies; instead of the Crown they will have the curse; instead of heaven everlasting fire with the Devil and his angels. Hence it is that so many " draw back to perdition." Ignorant of the great principles of religion, of its power to save, they wear it AS a cloak to hide the deformity within; so inadequate are their conceptions of its excel- lency, that they will not sacrifice a single lust, a momentary gratification, one darling idol, to insure the "eternal weight of glory" which it promises. ^'No Cross no Crown!" Some of the early disciples of the great Messiah, when the spirit- ual nature of Christianity was presented to them, were "offended." Their carnal stomachs loathed "the bread which came down from heaven." Companions of the world, they re- jected the "fellowship with the Father, and with the Son, Jesus Christ; the Cross dis- pleased them, and with their own hands they inscribed their names with those "who having put their hand to the plow, looked back, and 80' became unfit for the kingdom of God." Ko Cross, no Crown !" See ! that young man running toward the great Teacher; what can he want with him ? He is a noble man, a ruler of the Jews. Strange sight, indeed, to see! A ruler of the Jews running after the despised Gallilean. What is his business? He inquires about the way to heaven; he seems a good deal in earnest; he runs, and kneels at the Savior's feet; listen to him. 0, says he, "what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?" "Take up the Cross, aud thou shalt have treasure in heaven," said the Savior, as he looked kindly upon him. The young man looks " sad," he is " sad," and 't is a " sad" sight to see. He wants the "treasure in heaven," but he wont take up the Cross, and they go together; God has joined them, and what God has joined no man can put asunder. He looks at the Savior again inquiringly, as much as to say, "Is there no other way?' The Savior understands him; he points him to the Cross again, saying, "Except a man deny himself, and take \ip his Cross, he can not be my disciple." Fearful crisis, what will he do? The Savior is looking at him; the disciples, the multitude standing around; God, the holy angels, glorified spirits, all are look- ing; yea, hell is looking on this spectacle! Wliat is the issue? 0, dreadful infatuation! "heaven that hour let fall a tear." He who knew the commandments by heart, and who had kept them from his youth up, he turns his back on Christ and heaven, and goes away "sorrowful," to be yet more "sorrowful" long as eternal ages roll. Have the Cross and have the Crown. Look again at that young man walking boldly up to the Cross ; he lays hold of it, exclaiming, "When I am weak then am I strong; I can do all things through Christ strengthening me." He finds it "easy" and "light," pleas- ant delightful; he bears it faithfully in palaces and in prisons, in the wilderness and iji the city,, on the sea and on the land, among Jew and Greek, Barbarian and Scythian, Bond and Free, every-where exclaiming, as he goes, "God forbjd that I should glory save in the Cross of my Lord and Sav.ior Jesus Christ;" and having carried it the appointed time, he lays it at the Savior's feet singing triumph- antly — "I have fought a good fight; I have finished my course; I have 'kept the faith; Henceforth there is l.'iid up For me A Ckown of KiGuiJiocs>ESS." 28 EELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES 1 CHUONICLES, Chap, xvi: verse 35. PSALM Ixix: verse 15. MATTHEW, Chap, viii : verse 25. 2 SAMUEL, Chap, xxii: verse 17. ^^=^- LUKE, Chap, xix: verse 10. ACTS, Chap, ii: verse 2. ACTS, Chap, xxvii; verse 31. PSALM cvii: verse 28. THE LIFE-BOAT. They cry unto the Lord in their trouble., and he bringeth them out of their distresses. Ps. cvii: 28. Then the waters had over- whelmed us. Ps. cxxiv: 4. Loud yell the winds escaped from cives beneath, And summon Ocean to the Feast of death; Ocean obeys, high lifts his hoary head, With fearful roar, impatient to be fed; With maddened rage liis mountain billows rise, An I shake the earth and threaten e'en the skies; See the poor bark engulfed, with precious freight, Who, who can save her from impending fate? Old Ocean strikes her with tremendous shock, And, oh! she's stranded on a sunken rock. Horror and grief now seize the hapless crew, To hope and life they bid a last adieu; Thousands on shore behold their awful plight, But can not save them; 'tis a piteous sight. At this dread crisis, on the mountain wave Is seen a '^ Li/e-Boal,'' with intent to save; Onward she dashes o'er tliat sea of strife, Buoyant, and hopeful, 'tis a thing of life; She makes the wreck, and from its drifting spars, She takes on bo*rd the drifting mariners; Trip after trip she makes — with mercy fraught — Till they are safely carried into port. Here is portrayed the life-boat hast- ening to the rescue; the winds, escaped from their prison-house, issue forth, confined so long. Ocean is summoned to the feast of death ; Neptune obeys the summons ; instantl}'^ he is all com- rouring indignantly at having been I motion, stirred up from his lowest EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 20 depths, impatient to satiate his devour- ing api^etite; he dashes his billows against the earth; he assails the very heavens. JBehold the frail ship exposed to all the fury of his rage ; she is laden with precious treasure. Her ruin ap- pears inevitable. Loud roars Neptune ; loud roar the winds ; loud, too, snap and crack the cordage and the sails; high rises the mountain sui"f. The bark "mounts up to the heaven," deep yawns the gulf beneath; she goes down again into the depths; the crew are "at their wits end," their soul is melted because of trouble. But instead of calling "upon the Lord in their trouble," that he might "bring them out of their dis- tresses," they drink and are drunken. Still the waves and the billows go over them; at length a mountain wave dashes the vessel on a sunken rock, she falls to pieces ; the men cling to masts, spars, and broken pieces; despair sits on every ^countenance ; multitudes from the shore behold the catastrophe, but can not succor. Lamentable siifht! At this appalling moment, when all hope of their being saved is taken away, the Life-boat is launched into the ter- rific ocean. Will not she also fall a prey to the watery monster? See! she lives above the waves; her gallant crew impel her forward; on she dashes; she leaps from billow to billow; soon she reaches the wreck, and begins her work of mercy. Quickly she takes the drown- ing wretches from the drifting spars, giving back to them life and hope. vSomo, indeed, not yet sobered, will not be saved; others in the same condition take the "life-preservers" for pirates, that have come to take and sell them for slaves, therefore refuse to leave the raft. No time is to be lost. All they can, they receive on board, and carry Mafcly into port, amid the acclamations of the multitude. O, what is this but a picture of the gDodness of our God in Christ, in es- taolishing his Church on the earth. The tempestuous sea is tlie world ; the wreck is man ; the life-boat is the Church; and the multitudes on shore may represent the heavenly host, who look with interest into the affairs of man's redemption. The world is indeed a "troubled sea," a tempestuous ocean; it is raised into fury by the breath or spirit of the "evil one," "the Prince of the power of the air," who, having escajied from his prison-house, the "bottomless pit," de- scends in great wrath and summons all the powers of evil to aid him in the destruction of mankind. Here rolls the waves of Profanity, there those of im- purity; here dash with fury the break- ers of Revenge, there rise impetuous the mountain billows of Pride; on the right are seen the rocks of Infidelity; on the left the quicksands of Destruction; while the whirlpools of Mammon abound in every part. Man, shipwrecked by the first trans- gression, is cast upon this troubled sea, exposed to all it dangers; ignorant and helpless, he is "tossed upon life's stormy billows." Wave after wave rolls him onward to destruction; the whirlpool opens wide its mouth to "swallow him whole, as those that go down into the pit." Is all lost? Must he become a prey to the devouring elements? Ah! is there no eye to pity? no arm to save? Oh, divinecompassion ! "Godso loved the world," that the Life-boat is launched; Jesus is in the midst of her; he guides her movements; his disciples form the crew ; they encounter the storm that Satan raised; thc}^ spring from wave to wave, from billow to billow. "With crie.g, entreaties, tears, to save, And snatch them from the gaping grave." They take sinners from off the waves that are bearing them on to death, and place their feet upon the Hock of Sal- vation. Some are too proud to accept deliverance; such are left in their sad condition. 30 KELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, To speak without a figure, the Lord Jesus Christ has established liis church upon the earth, for the salvation of men. This is the proper business of the church, even as of the life-boat, to save men; its sacraments, ordi- nances, and various means of grace, all lead- ing to Christ, the Savior, are well adapted to do this; and when used aright, they never fail to insure salvation. Believe, love, obey; " this do, and you shall live." And whereas the usefulness of the '■'■Life- boat" consisted in having her bottom and sides hollow and filled with air, so the useful- ness of the Church depends upon her being filled with the Holy Spirit, with the atmos- phere of heaven ; and as boats not made air- tight fail to be useful in the storm, and prove the destruction of those who venture in them, in like manner Churches lacking the atmos- phere of heaven, being destitute of the power of the Holy Ghost, lail in being serviceable to the souls of men, and sink into the "dead sea" of forms and ceremonies. The Church of Christ, that is, a company of true believers, being filled with the Holy Spirit, become inliamed with zeal, and animated with love for perishing sinners. The love of Christ constralneth them, for they thus judge: if Ciirist died for all, then were all dead; and that he died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him that died for them and rose again. In seeking to save souls, they seek Christ's honor and glory, by establishing his dominion on the eanii; daily the Church, influenced thus, makes efforts for the salvation of men; her grand effort is on the Sabbath day. On this day worldly business is laid aside; the Angel of Mercy rings her bell around the earth; the Embassadors of heaven appear, and issue their proclamation unto the children of men; life and immortality are offered without money and without price; Mercy is active on the earth. Fountains of living waters are opened in dry places; heaven's gates are thrown wide open, and streams of light and love issue from the King of Glory. Every-where siuuei's. per- ishing sinners, are affectionately invited to es- cape from their sins, and take refuge beneath the sanctuary of the Most Holy. "Wisdom" herself "uttereth her voice in the streets; she crieth in the chief place of concourse, in the opening of the gates; in the city she uttereth her words, saying, How long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity, and the scorners de- light in their scorning, and fools hate knowl- edge." Nevertheless, "Millions are shipwrecked on life's stormy coast. With all their charts on board, and powerful aid; Because their lofty pride disdained to learn The instructions of a pilot and a God." As we saw in the case of the wreck, that some actually refused to enter the life-boat, so it is with sinners; alas! alas! that it is so; they, too, are intoxicated, "drunken, but not witii wine;" sin has intoxicated them; they are beside themselves. Some will not yield their heart to God, and be saved, simply because they will not; others do not believe the record God has given of his Son, and continue ex- posed to the damnation of those "that believe not." Others, again, mistrust the motives of the pious, who seek to lead them from the way of death, and think they want only to bring them into bondage; and as the mariners had power to remain on the wreck and be drowned, so the sinner has power to continue in his sins and be damned. Awful power! fearful re- sponsibility! and yet if man be not free, "how shall God judge the world." The Church, however, as a spiritual Life- boat, continues her benevolent excursions, and daily lands some saved ones at the port of glory; and when she shall have made her last trip, through that tempest that shall make a wreck of earth, then shall arise from countless myriads the song of triumph and of praise; "Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, Be unto him tlint silteth upon the throne, And unto the Lamb, forever and eTer." RELIGIOUS ALLEGOKIES. 31 PEOYEEBS, Chap, i: verse 7. verse 14. PEOVERBS, Chap, xiv: verse 16. 1 COEINTH'NS, Chap, i: verse 18. WISDOM 1 COEINTH'NS, m Chaj). ii : MATTHEW, Chap, v: verse 11. W/ JEEEMIAH, Chap, ix: verse 5. DEUTEEO'MY, Chap, iv: verses 30, 31 PSALM xe: verse 12. OBEDIENCE AND WISDOM. For the loisdom of this loorld is foolishness loith God. 1 Cor. ni: 19. If they have called the Master of the house Beelzebub, how much more shall they call them of his householdl Matt, x: 25. Here is Self- Will, so called by men below, Struggling alone his upward path to go; Though steep and rugged he will persevere; The way he knows is right, then wherefore fear His friends and foes alike pronounce him mad; Wis frien(h are sorry, but his/ocs are glad; One pulls him by the skirt to keep him back, Another runs before to cross his track; One with a club resolves to stop his course, And right or wrong, to bring him back by force; But they are wrong, and wrong the title given. Self-will on earth — Obedience is in heaven. Next Folly, nicknamed, here is seen to rise And climb the path that leads to yonder skies; Honors and shining gold his pathway cross, Yet he esteems them but ns dung and drof?s; Old-fashioned things prefers, o'ergrown with rust, And stars and garters tramples in the dust. Judging the mnn by earths acknowledged rule, The lookers-on denounce him for a fool; The world is wrong again, the man is right. His name is Wisdom in the realms of light. In this picture, on the one hand, is seen a man urc!;ini:^ his way up a steep and rugged path; his name is recorded. He is opposed, still he doggedly perse- veres; friends and foes alike are aston- ished at his proceedings. The former are grieved, the latter rejoice at the prospect of his certain ruin. Some of 32 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOKIES his fi'iends are determined to arrest his progress ; one seizes hold of him by the skirt, another, more intent, tries to get ahead of him in order to stop him; a third, yet more violent, pursues him with a bludgeon, and is determined, if fair means fail, to employ force. Nev- ertheless, he obstinately persists in the path he has chosen ; he believes it to be right; ho will not give in. They employ threats and promises, but all to no purpose ; out of all patience with him, they use up a whole vocabulary of opprobrious epithets. He is self- willed, obstinate, stubborn, etc. ; one by one, however, at length they leave him, and go about their business, and the man, no longer molested, goes along the way which to him appears to be right, and which he is determined to follow. On the other hand, one is seen press- ing forward up a rough and difficult pass; his name, also, is apparent. On his path lie scattered, profusely, Eiches and Honors of various kinds; there is the trumpet of Fame, with stars and garters, and many other things of equal value; these appear to be at his com- mand; he may ride in a coach drawn by six beautiful horses, and yet he pre- fers to toil and tug along that rough road on foot. This strange conduct ex- cites the scorn, ridicule, and laughter of those who behold him; they denounce him as a fool; they know that they would act very differently, and they are wise men. The man, however, regard- less alike of their scorn and jests, goes his own way; and after awhile they go theirs. The traveler here, called Self-Avill represents the Christian, or man of Piety, in every age; the steep and rug- ged way, Christian conduct; the trav- eler's ojiponents, the Christian's adver- saries, or men of the world. The Chris- tian is one who is anointed with the Spirit of Christ; he receives a heaven- ly call; he is not disobedient thereto; he knows in whom and in what he be- lieves. The path he is commanded to follow may be a difficult one, very dif- ficult to flesh and blood; it is a new and a strange way; it is so to himself in many resj^ects, but God has called him to walk in it, he will obey. He walks by faith, not by sight, merely. His friends become alarmed at his con- duct, and at first approach him with tenderness, beseeching him to give up his new-fangled notions; though he loves them sincerely, he can not, he dare not jneld to their solicitations. They remonstrate, they threaten, but all in vain; he is determined, nothing will move him; he even invites them to go with him; nothing would give him greater satisfaction than to have them for companions; they will not be per- suaded, and mourning over what they consider his self-will and stubbornness, permit him, at length, to have his own way. Others, of a more hostile character, but equally blind, who know nothing of the Christian's motives and aims, who put darkness for light, and light for darkness, call sweet bitter and bit- ter sweet, beset the man with foul and abusive language. They revile and slander him, they maltreat and perse- cute him; they believe him to be an obstinate, stupid fellow — one who will have his own way at all hazards. The man of Grod endures all things, and hopes all things; he prays for those who oppose him; he gives them good advice, and tells them, ''As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." But God sees not as man sees; heaven approves of his conduct; hallelujahs re- sounded above when first he started on the way; new shouts of angelic ap- plause might have been heard when he persisted to walk in it. God has en- rolled his name among his obedient ones, and when earth's records, doings;- and opinions shall be no more, he will receive, amid ten thousand thousand EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, 33 witnesses, the welcome plaudit of " Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." A wonderful example of what the world calls self-will lived many years since. An old man, who knew nothing about the business, took it into his head to turn shipwright and build a ship. Such a thing had never been heard of; of such enormous dimensions, too, that is was very clear there could not be water enough to float it; and a thousand idle things were said about the old man and his wild and willful undertaking. Yet he was self-willed day after day found him at his work; he knew what he was about, he knew who had com- manded him; he doubted not but that there would be water enough to float his ship by and by, nor was he mistaken. His obedience had its full reward, and the lone Ark, floating majestically on the world of waters, testified that it was wiser and better to obey God than man. The man Folly, his path, and the treatment he "meets with, serve also to illustrate Chris- tian character. The Christian is called to for- sake home and friends, houses and lands, riches and honors, whenever they, in any measure, Btand in the way of duty. The heavenly com- mission he has received makes it incumbent on him to deny self, take up his cross, to bear the yoke, and to become a pilgrim in the world. He is faithful to his calling. Pleasure courts him, but he embraces her not. Wealth en- tices, but he consents not. Honors and glories solicit him, but all in vain. He rejects them all. He will not have a clog to his soul. He is free, and he knows the value of his ireedom. The poor slaves of sin and earth know no more of the man and his pursuits than of the angel Gabrial and his employments in paradise. To them, this spurner of gold, the rejecter of honors, this trampler on earth, is a fool and a madman; he is beside himself, and so he is denounced accordingly. They judge of him and his conduct by liie rules of earth, but he follows another standard. As well might the oyster buried in the sand attempt to pass judg- ment on the towering eagel when he flies on the wings of the storm, mounts and mingles with the new-born light, and rejoices in the boundlessness of space. The Christian rejects what he knows upon the authority of Truth, and the God of Truth, to be worthless in themselves, unsatisfactory in their nature, and transitory in their contin- uance. He receives and holds fast what is invaluable, .satisfying, and eternal. And when the light of the last conflagration shall reveal the secrets of all hearts, and declare the value of all things, then will it be seen that the Christian has governed himself according to the rules of the highest Wisdom. Thus it was with the man of meekness; he gave up kingship and royalty, and formed an al- liance with a troop of slaves; he relinquished the splendors of a court for the terrors of a desert — a life of luxurious ease for one of peril and fatigue. By the men of his generation his conduct was regarded as foolish and absurd; but his appearance on the glorious mount of transfiguration, as an Embassador of the skies, encircled with the splendors of heaven, pro- claims to the world that ''the fear of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom," and the love of him its highest consummation. Look again at the young man of Tarsus; see him resign the protes.^or's chair to become a teacher of barbarians. The ruler of the Jews becomes the servant of the Gentiles; the friend of the great and powerful becomes the companion of the weak and contemptible; the inmate of a mansion becomes a vagabond on the earth, "having no certain dwelling-place." He embraces hunger, thirst, and nakedness; the dungeon, the scourge, and the ax. The world has pronounced its verdict upon him — he was a "madman," "a pe.st," "a disturber of the public peace," "a ringleader of the de- spised." The case, however, is pending in a higher court, and when those who " sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake," and Paul, '■ shining as the brightness of the firmament," takes rank among the ^^ wise," the verdict of heaven will have been recorded. "Wisdom is humble, said the voice of God, 'T is proud, the world replied. Wisdom, said God, Forgives, forbears, and suffers, not for fear Of man, but God. Wisdom revenges, said The world; is quick and deadly of resentment Thrusts at the very shadow of affront. And hastes by Death to wipe its honor clean. Wisdom, said God, is highest when it stoops Lowest before the Holy Throne ; throws down Its crown, abased ; forgets itself, admirea, And breaths adoring pi-aise." 34 EELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES, PSALM xix: verse 13. 2 PETEK, Chap, ii : verse 10. NUMBERS, Chap. XV : verse 30. DEUTERO'MY, Chap, i: verse 43. DAI^GEH OF rRESUMPTIOX. If sinners entice thee, consent thou not. Prw. i: not unto thine own understanding. Prov. iii: 5. DEUTEROMY, Chap, xvii: verse 12. COLOSSIANS. Chap, ii: verse 18. LEVITICUS, Chap, x: verses 1, 2. » ECCLESIAST'S Chap, viii: verse 11. 10. -Lean Behold where Winter on his stormy throne, With icy scepter sways the world alone; From arctic regions fierce the whirlwinds blow, And earth, all shivering, wears her robe of snow; The leafless forest murmurs to the blast, The rushing river now is fettered fast; And clouds and shadows settling over all, Wrap lifeless nature in her funeral pall. Some youths now hasten to the frozen lake, And on to school their way with pleasure take; Nor go alone, but others they entice With them to frolic on the slippery ice; The wny is pleasant, smoother far to go, Than o'er the mountain through the drifted snow; One, and one only, makes a wiser choice. He will not hea'rken unto Pleasure's voice; Awhile the others glide along the lake, When all at once the ice begins to break; In — in they plunge ! In vain their piteous tones — The waters quickly hush their gurgling groans. Here we see the dane;er of presump- tion — the fruits of disobedience. It was a winter's day: the snow had fall- en, and eai'th was clad in her robes of white; the north wind had moaned through the forest, and the ponds and rivers Avere partly frozen over. Some village school-boys, about to start for the school-house, which was situated at some distance on the other side of EELIGIOUS ALLEGOPwlES 35 a mountain, were admonished by their parents not to go by the way of the lake that lay round the foot of the mount; the parents judging it to be unsafe, the command was given with all possible earnestness and tenderness. Well would it have been for the boys had they obeyed ; as soon as they were out of sight, Harry whispered to Charles that "it would be more pleasant to go by the way of the lake than to trudge it over the mountain, and nobody could know any thing about it." After a few moments pause Charles agreed; others now are invited tp accompany them; "the more the merrier," say they; one by one they give their assent, and all, except Samuel, who forgot not his parents' injunction, and who preferred trudging through the drifts of snow over the mountain to disobeying his parents' command; all resolve to take the smoother and pleasanter way across the lake. They doubt not but it will bear; they anticipate a fine time; they hesitate not to trust the ice, though they will not trust the Avord of their parent:?. On they venture ; away they glide o'er the slippery surface, with the wind behind them; full of delight they slide along; they see Samuel working his way through the snow ; full of fun and laughter, they, with difficulty, stop to ridicule him, when behold! their en- tire weight is more thaji the ice will bear; suddenly it breaks; in, in they go, down! down! they sink; the cold waters close over them — they are lost. The school-bell rings, but they are not there; one only of the party has arrived to tell to the teacher and the rest of the scholars the dismal tale. From the commonest events in life we may gather instruction; the bee disdains not to gather honey from the meanest flower. The Almighty is the great Parent of all, the Father of the spirits of all that live ; he has not forgot- ten the work of his own hands; he takes pleasure in the security and happiness 10 of his children ; he governs the world by laws — fixed, unalterable laws — except when he alters them for some special purpose, as in the case of miracles. His natural laws prevail in heavens above, in the earth beneath, and in the waters under the earth ; the law of gravita- tion by which a body unsupported falls, exists everv-where, extends to the re- motest star or planet, and binds all material objects to a common center; the law of motion, by which a body once put in motion continues in that state, if it be not resisted by the action of an external cause; these laws and others govern the universe of matter, and they are uniform. Fir« always burns, water always drowns, and ice supports bodies in exact proportion to its quality and thickness. But for spirits, God has given laws that are s])iritual; in wisdom he has given them to his creatures; these, too, are all fixed and unalterable, "Except ye repent ye shall perish." The way of sin always leads to disgrace, sorrow, and eternal death ; the path of duty or piety always to honor, happiness, and everlasting life; they have always done so, thev ever will do so; God has ad- raonished the children of men of this truth; he has plainly pointed out the two paths, their character, tendency, and end; and, having done this, he, in the most affectionate manner, urges us to follow the path of life. "Be- hold!" says he, and wonder at the an- nouncement, 'I set before you Life and Death, Blessing and Cursing; choose Life, that you may live." ''Placed for his trial on this bustling stage, From thoughtless youth to ruminating age, Free in his will to choose or to refuse, Man may improve the crisis or abuse; Else, on the fatalist's unrighteous plan, Say to what bar amenable were man? With naught i-a charge he could betray no trust; And if he fell, would fall because he must. If Love reward him, or if Vengeance strike. His recompense in both unjust alike. 36 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, Divine authority within his breast Brings every tliought, Avord, action to the test; Warns liiin or prompts, reproves liim or restrains, As reason, or as passion, takes tlie reins; Heaven from above, and conscience from within, Cries in his startled ear — abstain from sin; Tlie world around solicits his desire. And kindles in his soul a treacherous fire; While all its purposes and steps to guard. Peace follows virtue as its sure reward; And Pleasure brings as surely in lier train Remorse, and sorrow, and vindictive pain." The boys who broke through the ice and per- ished, had been faitiifully warned; the two ways had been distinctly marked out to them ; they ibllovved their own course; ihay presumed their parents mi^ht not know every tiling, they might not know liow hard it had frozen dur- ing the night; that the ice was strong enough to bear them, there was no danger. ' The fact ■was, the way of duty looked diiiicult, and the way forbidden easy and delightful; they had their reward. So it is with tiie sinner, man; he presumes that he may violate the laws of God with impunity, that he will not punisii, that the way is a safe one, although God has said "the end thereof is death." The truth is, the way of piety seems hard, steep, and difficult, and the way of sin smooth and agreeable to liis carnal nature; hence, he ven- tures on, at first with ditiidence, afterward with vain confidence; lie entices otiiers to ac- company him in liis sinful pleasures; this makes it more cangerous; they strengthen each otlier in wickedness, but "though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go unpun- ished." To sliow the mfluence of bad example, and the danger of presumption, Baxter has related the following anecdote: "A man was driving a flock of fat lambs, and something meeting them and hindering tlieir passage, one of tlie lambs leaped upon the wall of the bridge, and his legs slipping from under him, he fell into the stream; the rest seeing him, did as he did; one after another leaped over the bridge into the stream, and were all, or almost all, drowjied. Those that were beiiind did little know what was become of them that were gone before, but thought they might venture to fol- low their companions; but as soon as tiiey were over the wall, and falling headlong, the case was altered. Even so it is with uncon- verted carnal men; one dielh by them and irons iato hell, another follows the same way; and yet they will go after them, because they think nut where they are gone. 0, but when death hath once opened tiieir eyes, and they see what is on the other side of tlie wall, even in another world, then what would they give to be where they once were." Last Summer, I noticed a little incident that may serve to illustrate our subject; the same thing, no doubt, is of frequent occur- rence. An insect had entered the house and was upon the back of a chair; having walked to the end, it very circumspectly employed its feelers above, below, and all around. Ascer- tainining that the side was slippery and pre- cipitous, it turned round and went back agam; this it did several times, nor would it leave its position until it could do so with sal'ety. And yet man — man with the powers almost of an angel — rushes blindly on to ruin. It is well known that the elephant, when about to cross a bridge, puts its foot down in- quiringly to ascertain its strength, nor will he jiroceetl utiless he is satisfied the bridge is suf- liciently strong to support him; but the trans- gressor ventures on the bridge of sin, beneatli wiiich rolls the river of eternal woe, bearing with him the weight of liis imtnortal interests, the "vast concerns of an eternal state." By the laws of motion, the boy sliding or skating on the ice can not easily stop himself, and sometimes he rushes into the openings or air-holes, that are often found on the suriace, and meets with an untimely end. It is so with the laws of sin; the sinner in- creases liis momentum as he advances; from hearkening to the counsel of the "ungodly," he proceeds to the way of open "sinners;" a Utile further and he sits complacently in the sent of the "scornful," Now his doom is sealed! Thus it was with Babylon's proud king; not content with having been an idolater all his life, against his better knowledge — for the judgment that befel his forefather, Nebuchad- nezzer, must have instructed him — would ridi- cule the true religion, he would insult the majesty of heaven. He sends for the sacred vessels of the Sanctuary, tiiat he and his com- panions may magnify themselves over the cap- tive tribes of Israel. But behold! in the midst of his blasphemous revelry, the Hand, the terrible hand, appears, and the presumptuous monarch, after having seen his doom recorded on the wall of his own palace, is suddenly cut down, and his kingdom given to another. RELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES, 37 JOSHUA, Chap, xxiv: verse 15. PSALM xxvii : verse 8. LUKE, Chap, v: verse 28. ACTS, Chap. XX : verse 24. EPHESIANS, Chap, vi: verse 18. MATTHEW, Chap, x: verse 22. HEBREWS, Chap, vi: verse 15. JAMES, Chap, i: verse 18. DEC1SI0>^ A^D persevera:n'ce. 1. 1 press toward the mark, for My heart is fixed. Ps. cviii the prize. Phil, iii : 14. See where the Alps rear vip their giant brow! King of the mounts, with coronet of snow; Scorning all time, and change, his stalwart form Endures the peltings of eternal storm; In awful pride, enthroned above the skies. Peaks upon peaks in matchless grandeur rise; 'Mid frowning glaciers on whose icy crest, The savage vulture builds its craggy nest; The fathomless abyss extends beneath, And leads the traveler to the realms of death; Napoleon comes in quest of fame .iTid power, He scans tlie mounts that high above him tower; Though "bareli/ poxsihle,'' he will '-advance," And in Italia plant the flag of France; In vain the mountain, like a dreadful ghost, Rises to frighten the advancing liost. O'er towering cliff and yawning gulf he speeds. He means to pass nor aught of danger heeds; He scales the summit with liis conquering train. And like the vulture swoops upon the plain. Here the Alps lift up their snow- capped heads in awful sublimity; their icy pinnacles tower above the clouds; their colossal forms arise, mountain on mountain piled. To all save the bounding chamoisor his intrepid pursuer, they ap- pear inaccessible; here vast overhang- ing precipices threaten destruction, and 38 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES there the treacherous ubjss lies con- cealed, ready to engulf the unwary trav- eler; winter reigns supreme upon his throne of desolation ; eternal tempests in- crease the horror of the scene. In vain does the famished traveler search for some stunted liche'n, or the smallest ani- mal, to save him from approaching death ; he sees nothing but boundless seas of ice; no signs of life are there; it seems the veiy tomb of nature; the solemn solitude is broken only by the roar of the tempest or the thunder of the ava- lanche. Yet over all these obstacles Napoleon would advance; he inquires of the en- gineer Marescot, who has just explored the wild passes of the St. Bernard, if it is possible to pass. ^'■Barely possible,'" answers the officer. " Very well," says Napoleon, -'en avant," "advance," and at the head of his army of above 30,000 men, with their arms, horses, and ar- tillery, he commences the arduous pas- sacre. The mountains seem to bid de- fiance to the utmost efforts of the mar- tial host; but dangers and difficulties deter him not; like the gale that wafts the vessel sooner into port, they only urge him on toward the object of his ambition; he conducts the army over slippery glaciers, wide yawning ravines, and eternal snows ; he braves the fury of the tempest, and the crash of the avalanche; and overcoming every ob- stacle, he swoops upon Italy like the Alpine eagle upon its prey. In the conduct of Napoleon in this instance, we have a striking example of decision and perseverance. If wo can, "out of the eater bring forth meat," and "from the strong forth sweetness," it will be well. The importance of possessing a de- cided character is best seen in its re- sults, as the value of a tree is best known by its fruits ; by its aid Na- poleon accomplished the objects of his ambition — fame, and wealth, and glory, and power. With it, a man attains bring that which he sets his heart upon; without it, he becomes easily discour- aged and fails. With it, he controls his own movements, and influences, also, the conduct of others; without it, he loses his own individuality, and be- comes a creature of circumstances. In fine, man without decision is like a rud- derless vessel, tossed upon an uncertain sea; while the decided character, like the genius of the storm, commands the winds and the waves, and they obey him. The importance of decision being so apparent, it becomes an interesting inquiry, "How can it be obtained?" After a proper object of pursuit is se- lected, it seems essential that a fuller knowledge of the object should be se- cured; no pains ought to be spared in order to obtain a perfect knowledge of the object or profession, in all its parts; this is necessary to the fovmdation of such a character. The traveler who knows his way walks with a firm step, while he that is in doubt about his path advances with hesitation. Another thing deemed, essential, is confidence in the object of our choice, that it will yield us satisfaction ; pos- sessing a knowledge of our route, and a belief that at the end of oiir journey we shall be at home, the things that discourage others have no influence at all upon us. So it is with the decided character in the path he has chosen. Does opposition present itself? he as- sumes the attitude of a gladiator, de- termined to conquer or die ; does danger appear, as it did to Shadrach and his companions, when the burning fiery furnace stood in their path? he burns the more ardently to fulfill his mission. Is he ridiculed, as were the builders of the walls of Jerusalem? he heeds it not, he still goes forward. Finally, does he find himself forsaken ? it throws him on his own resources, it makes him firmer in his purpose, as the tree that stands alone and braves the storm, EELlGIOtrS ALLEGOEIES, 39 strikes deeper its roots into the ground. If engaged iu a good cause, he is, like Milton's AbdieJ, "Faithful found Among the faithless, faithful only he Among innumerable false, unmoved, Unbroken, uuseduced, unterrified, Ilis loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal; Nor number, nor example, with him wrought, To swerve from truth or change his constant mind, Though single.' In the case of Napoleon the above points were exemplitied; he selected as the object of his choice, military warfare; he made himself acquainted with every thing belonging to it as a science. He had confidence in it, as a means of procuring him the highest objects of his ambition; hence his devotion to it; hence his perseverance; dangers and difficulties are seized as allies; he rises with the storm, and "barely possible" is to him an assurance of success. Tx) the Christian soldier decision is of the highest importance; he has selected the Chris- tian warfare as a means of procuring to him, "Glory, Honor, and Immortality." "If the righteous are scarcely saved," it behooves him to know wiiat belongs to " liis calling." He needs a knowledge of himself, of his duties, and of his privileges ; a knowledge of the way, its dangers, and its difficulties; a knowledge of his enemies, their methods, and their power; a knowledge of his Almighty leader, of his Spirit, and of iiis Word. He needs a living, practical faith in religion, that will secure to him "Eternal Life." Opposition, danger, and -death may stare him in the face, but if de- cided, he will say, " None of these things move me;" "my heart is fixed, I will sing and give praise;" and liaving fought the good fight of faith, he will be enrolled among those who per- severe to the end and are saved. "Faith, mighty ftiith, the promise sees, and looks to that alone. Laughs at impossibilities, and cries, '/< shall be done!' " Decision of character may, however, belong to very different individuals — to the bad as well as the good, to Satan as well as to Abdiel. We may, like Enoch, "set our.«elves" to walk with God ; or be like the wicked whose " heart is fully set in them to do evil." We may say with pious Joshua, "Choose you this day whom ye will serve, but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord ;" or with ambitious Pizarro, we may draw the line with the sword, and say, "On this side lie poverty and Panama, on that, Peru and gold; as for me and the brave,- we will cross the line." With the martyr Paul, we may exclaim, " I go to Jerusalem, thou^-h bonds and afflictions await me there;" or with the patriot Pompey, " It is necessary for me to be at Rome, though it is not neces' sary for me to live." The following anecdotes, related by Foster, exhibit striking examples of decision and per- severance: " An estimable old man, being on a jury, in a trial of life and death, was completely satis- fied of the innocence of the prisoner; the other eleven were of the opposite opinion, but he was resolved the man should not be con- demned. As the first effort for preventing it, he made application to the minds of his asso- ciates, but he found he made no impression; he then calmly told them that he would sooner die of famine than release them at the expense of the prisoner's life. Tlie result was a ver- dict of acquittal." What follows is a less worthy instance: "A young man having wasted, in two or three years, a large fortune, was reduced to absolute want. He went out one day, with the intention of putting an end to his life; wandering along, he came to the brow of an eminence that overlooked what were once his own estates; here lie sat down and remained fixed in thought some hours. At length he sprang up with a vehement exulting emotion — he had formed the resolution that all these estates should be his own again; he had formed his plan, also, whicli he began imme- diately to execute; he walked forward de- termined to seize the very first opportunity to gain money, and resolved not to spend a cent of it, if he could help it. The first thing was a heap of coals sliot before a house; he ofiered to wheel them into their place; he received a few pence for his labor; he then asked for some- thing to eat, which was given him. In tiiis way he proceeded, always turning his gains to some advantage, till in the end he more than realized his lost possessions, and died a miser, worth more than a quarter of a million of dollars." 40 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, ISAIAH, Chap. Ivii: verse 20. ISAIAH, Chap, xlviii verse 22. JAMES, Chap, i : verses 3, 4. ECCLESIAST'S Chap, vii: verse 8. EOMAXS, Chap, v: verses 3, 4. JAMES, Chaj). v: verse 7. PEOVEEBS, Chap. XX : verse 21. ECCLESIAST'S, Chap, iv: verse .6. PASSION AXD PATIENCE. The fool rageth. Prov. xiv: 16. ivork. Jas. i: 4. -Let patience have her perfect Bkhold here! Passion, stampinf;^. mml with rage; He tries the knotted cord to disengaa;e. He twists and twirls, and fumes and frets in vain, And all impatient cuts the cord in twain. Seel there is gold! that Providence has sent; Favor abused — it feeds his discontent. His soul a tempest — storms around him rise ; Thunder and lightning shake the trembling skies; A troubled ocean — white with foaming spray, Whose restless waters cast up mire and clay. But mark the contrast ! Patience, much at ease, Th' intricate cord unravels by degrees, No bags of gold has he. But what is more, He has content — of this an ample store; While the bright Rainfcow sparkling in the sky, Is pledge to him of future joys on high; His soul a calm — by mellow light caressed; A placid lake — whose waters are at rest. Two very different characters are here presented to our view: Passion, stormint);, wild with rao:e; Patience, calm and tranquil. For some time Pas- sion has been endeavorinc^ to unravel a hank of entangled twine or cord. In his ,2;reat hurry he entangles it more and "more. It is full of knots; he grows hot with rage; his ftice is mis- created; he wears the aspect of a fury. Stamping with anger, he tramples upon some toys that lay near him, arid brakes EELIGIOUS ALLEGOPtlES 41 them into pieces. A'bai^ of gold is seen standing at his side. This only feeds his pride; it makes him more outrageous to thinlc that he shoukl have such work assigned him. A tempest is seen to arise behind liim; the clouds gather blackness ; thunders roll ; fearful lightnings glare around. This is to show the state of his mind — wild, fiery, and tempestuous. He is also fully represented by the troubled sea, seen in the back-ground. Tumultuous it tosses its foaming bil- lows; its restless waters casts np mire and dirt. So his troubled spirit, agi- tated by the tumult of his passions, gives utterance to oaths, blasphemies, and imprecations. Miserable youth! The fire of hell is enkindled within him ! Patience, on the other hand, sits with unruffled composure, lie, too, has had the same work assigned him. lie has the knotted cord to unravel ; but he goes about it in the spirit of duty; pa- tiently he unties knot after knot, over- comes difficult}' after difiiculty, until the whole is cleared. lie has finished his task; he is seen looking upward, to show that he seeks help and counsel from on high. A heavenly light descends and sheds its luster round about him. Help is afforded. In the back-ground is seen a placid lake : this denotes the composure of his mind. Not a Avave of perplexity dashes across his peaceful breast. He has not riches; no gold is seen shining by his side; ho is, how- ever, contented with his condition; nor is he without hope of future good. The Bow of Promise, glittering in the dis- tant sky, intimates to us that he looks forward to a future recompense. Passion represents a man of the world: one Avho has his portion in this life. The Almight}' Father has ap- pointed a work to all men ; yea, every thing living, moving, creeping, swim- ming, flying, has its work to do. Duty is incumbent upon all. It is a con- dition of existence; it is also a con- dition of happiness. Man is under this universal law. The man of the world lacking the proper qualifications for duty, fails in discharging it aright. He works from wrong motives and for wrong ends; ho does all to the gloiy of self. No wonder he makes such a bungling work of it. By the knotted cord may be under- stood those difficult passages of life through which man, as such, has to pass — afflictions, disappointments, etc. These are more than the Avorldly-mind- ed man can bear. The reason seems clear enough. He has set his heart upon earthly objects; hence, the re- moval of these objects from him affects him very sensibly. These are thy gods, O, man of the Avorld ! When trouble comes, of course he does not look up- ward; he has no business there. He looks doAvn — down — continually. "He leans to his own understanding," in- stead of waiting for further develop- ments. He becomes impatient, fretful, peevish, angry, and passionate. He would curse God and die, if he was not afraid to die. He is "Instantly, with wild demoniac rage, For breaking all the chains of Providence, And bursting his confinement, though fast barred By laws divine and human." Providence may have lavished wealth upon hini; he spurns the giver; ho abuses his gifts. His pride becomes more inflamed; his table becomes a snare unto him; his riches add to his discontent. What he needs, though he may not know it, is a hope beyond the grave. He has title deeds enough on parchment, but none to the kingdom of heaven; houses and lands, but no "hiding-place" in which to enter when the great day of his wrath shall come. He has no anchor to enable his vessel to ride out the gales of adversity. Clouds and darkness surround him; a tempest is in his path ; he is a cloud carried with the tempest, to whom is 42 EELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES reserved the mist of darkness forever ; u troubled sea, wliicli can not rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. Patience represents the man of God; him who has cliosen God and the world to come for his portion. In this world, he, too, has presented to him the knot- ted cord — trials, j^erplexities, and afflic- tions. Man is born to trouble. He en- dures all things as seeing him who is invisible; in patience ho possesseth his soul. He looks at the difficulty calmly ; he considers what is best to be done, and which is the best wa}^ to do it. If it is beyond his power or skill, he looks to God for assistance. The com- posed state of his mind gives him a great advantage over the impatient one; but if he finds his own arm too short, lie is intimate with One who is mighty to save, and who is a very present help in times of trouble. Soon the knot is untied, the diffi.culty is overcome, and the victory is gained. Hence a holy calm pervades him; he knows that all things are working together for his good. His soul is like a placid lake, reflecting the rosy light of heaven. Earth to him may be a tempestuous ocean; but the eye of faith ever sees the beacon of Truth gleaming across its dark blue wave, pointing him to the haven of repose. Therefore, though oast down, he is not destroyed; per- plexed, yet never in des])air. He reck- ons that his light afflictions will work for him a far more exceeding and eter- nal weight of gloiy. He looks not at the tilings which are seen, but at those that are not seen. He has no gold, he is poor; but the Bow of Promise spans for him its glorious arch. "He is joy- ful in hope." He is reminded of his in- heritance above. There he has a throne at the right hand of the King of Gloiy ; a mansion in the skies; a bower in paradise; a rest in' Abi'aham's bosom; a shelter from the storm; a city which has foundations. No wonder that besets his aftections on things that are above. There is his portion fair; there, too, is, his heart; there is his eternal dwelling- place. Ho would rather have the lot of Lazarus here, and his portion here- after, than fare sumptuously ever}^ day with Dives, and be perplexed with him at last in the hell of torment. As he walks through the vale of poverty and distress, the heavenly light shines around him, and awakes the voice of song: "Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, Neither shall fruit be in the vines; The labor of the olive shall fail, And the fields shall yield no meat; The flocks shall be cut off from the fold, And there shall be no herd in the stalls; Yet I will rejoice in the Lord — I will joy ill the God of my Salvation." How greatly is Patience to bg pre- ferred before Passion. Passion is a fury, breathing out threatening and slaughter; Patience is a chei'ub, whis- pering words of love and joy. Passion is a tempest charged with lightnings, hail, and thunder; Patience is a holy calm, where peace reigns and stillness triumphs. The one is a troubled sea, casting up mire and dirt; the other a placid lake, illumined by the mellow light of heaven. The one a foretaste of the fire of hell; the other a pledge of everlasting repose. "The man possess'd among the tombs, Cuts his own flesh and cries; He foams and raves, till Jesus comes, And the foul spirit flies." "Beloved self must be denied — The mind and will renewed Passion oppressed and patience tried. And vain desires subdued." EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 43 PIllLLIPPI'NS, ^^^Mlff^^^^W Chap, iv: verse 13. 1 JOHK, Chap, ii: verses 13, 14. 1 JOHX, Chap, v: verses 4, 5. 1 TIMOTHY, Chap, vi : verse 12. ■5^' Hinrthat oworcomethwill Irrakra \=^^rz^^ ^s gr_" ["jllar in' the -temple of tnvCad. =^gf^ ^^p 2 TIMOTHY, Cbaj). iv: verse 7. 2 CORINTH'XS, Chap, x: verse 4. 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, ii : verse 3. EEYELATION, Chap, iii: verse 21. THE CONQUERING CHRISTIAN. Fight the good fight. 1 Tim. vi : 12. Taking the shield of Faith and the Sword of the Spirit. Eph. vi: 16, 17. A GLORIOUS Temple rises to our view, The conquering Christian fights his passage through; His dreadful foes who now attack him sore, 'ij'alse Shame behind, fell Unbelief before; And Worldly Love — great idol here below, Unites to aid in Cliristian's overthrow; But he, courageous, takes at once the field. Armed with ancient, well-appointed shield; A two-edged sword he wields, well known to fame, And prostrai.es at one blow the dastard Shame; On AVorldly Love he falls with many a blow, And soon lie lays the usurping monster low. Now Unbelief, the champion of the rest. Enraged, bestirs him, and lays on his best; A fearful thrust he makes at Christian's heart, The Shield of Faith receives the mnrd'rous dart; With his good sword brave Christian wounds him sore, And out of combat he is seen no more; Into the Temple now the Victor speeds. And Angel Minstrels chant his valiant deeds. The above represents a man fii!;litin2; l\is way toward a beautiful Pahice; it is his home. From various causes he has been lonfj estrauijed from his pa- ternal inheritance. He is, by some means, reminded of its endearini? associ- ations, of its ancient magnificence, of its voices of happiness and love, pleas- ant things to delight the eye, choral symphonies to enrich the ear, rich vi- 44 EELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES ands to gratify the taste are there. Ho becomes anxious to return; he deter- mines at once to regain possession of his mansion, or perish in the attempt. He meets with opposition ; the odds is fearful, three to one. His enemies do not absolutely deny his rights, yet they are determined to oppose him to the uttermost. He gives battle, and by dint of skill and courage, he routs his foes, gains a complete victory, and enters his home in triumph. This allegory represents a part of the Christian warfare. The temple or pal- ace signifies that glorious inheritance which the Almighty Father has be- queathed to all of his children. It con- tains all that can please, delight, or en- chant the soul, and that forever m.ore. For it is an inheritance that is incor- ruptible, undefiled, and which fadeth not away. The hero denotes a man who has decided to be a Christian. By the influence of the Holy Spirit on his heart, he is convinced of his outcast condition; of the impotency of created good to make him happy; of the in- significance of the things of time com- pared with those of eternity. Con- vinced of these, in the strength of grace, he says, "I will arise and go to my Father," and he goes accordingly. But he soon meets with enemies who powerfully oppose his progress; and among the first of these is Shame. Our passions, or powers of feeling, have been given to us by our benevolent Creator to subserve our happiness, and shame among the rest. "Art divine Thus made the body tutor to the soul — Heaven kindly give.s our blood a moral flov^, And bids it ascend the glowinij cheek." Shame stands as a sentinel to warn us of danger, and so put us on our guard. But all of our passions arc per- verted from their proper uses, and sin has done it. Therefore, as man loves darkness rather than light, calls evil good and good evil, puts bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter, so, also, he changes the proper uses of shame. In- stead of being ashamed of the bad he is ashamed of the good. Shame is an enemy hard to conquer. The convert finds it so. He feels ashamed, at first, to be seen by his old companions in company with the truly pious, or go- ing to a religious meeting, or on his knees praying, or in any way carry- ing the cross of him whom he has now chosen to be his Master. Shame con- fronts him every-where, and gives him to understand that, for the most part, religious people are a poor, low, and ignorant set; that no person of char- acter will associate with him, etc. Christian remembers that what is highly, esteemed among men is had in abom- ination with (jrod; that shame, after all, is the promotion of fools only. Thus lie vanquisheth shame by the sword of the Spirit, even by the Word of the Lord. As soon as shame is disposed of, an- other foe apj)ears — Love of the world. This consists in a greater attachment to this present world than becomes one who is so soon to leave it and live foi'- ever in another. As the boy should learn what he may need when he shall become a man, so should the mortal acquire what it may need when it puts on immortality. The natural man is so strongly wedded to earthly objects, that to him the separation is impossi- ble. Arijcumont will not eff'ect it. Ho may be convinced, intellectually, that the thingsof earth are transitory and un- satisfying, yet he pursues them eagerly. His feelings may be lacerated by the death of some beloved relative, and his hopes blasted by the loss of property, still he cleaves to earth. The power of the Almighty alone can help him. He needs a new principle of feeling and of action; even that of faith that overcomes the world. Obtaining this principle, he looks not at the things IIELIG-IOUS ALLEGOPwIES 45 that are seen, but at those which ai*e unseen. The genuine Cliristian convert has many conflicts ere he can set his affec- tions on tlie things above. Worldly Love opposes him perseveringly — in his religious experience, in his self-deny- ing duties, in his . . . givings, and in his sufferings. Tlie Christian, how- ever, li;nows tliat he must conquer that foe or perisli. ; therefore, he sets him- self to meditate upon his duty. He searches the Scriptures; he finds tliat God's enemies are those who mind earthly things; ho wishes not to join them ; that the love of the world is hatred to God ; if any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him; and animated by the example of Christ his Lord, who left heaven for man, he renounces earth for God. He dies to the world and lives to Christ. As a soldier of Jesus he fights under his banners, and comes off more than a con- quex'or through him who has loved him. Unbelief is a gigantic foe. He is in- deed the champion of all the rest, pe- culiarly skillful and bold in his attacks. He knows how to shift his ground adroitly. Sometimes he assails vehe- mently, denying Christianity itself; nay, the very existence of :he Almighty, declaring that "God is nature, and that there is no other god," and that "death is an eternal sleep." Thus, by one stroke, he would sweep away the being and attributes of the Eternal, the doctrines, promises, and command- ments of the Word of God, man's re- sponsibilites and consequent duties. AVere this stroke successful, it would deprive man of all happiness in this life, and of the consolations of hope in the life that is after death. It expels him a second time from paradise into a desert, where not even thorns and briers spring up for his support. Unbelief, however, does not always act so boldly. Sometimes he admits the existence of God, and the subject of religion, in general, but denies that man owes duties to the former, or that he is interested in the latter. He will even approve of the form of le'.igion, provided there is no power, no faith, no Holy Si)irit in it. Unbelief in this form destroys thousands of immortal souls who profess Christ, yet, not hav- ing true faith, in works deny him. He that belicvcth not. shall be damned. Sometimes unbelief attacks the Cluistiau under the garb of benevolence. He jjities and deplores most feehngly the present evils tliat flesli is heir to. He promises you a ter- restrial lieaven. But, first, the present ordei of things must be abolished. All institution.s, political and religious, must be abrogated. The foundations of Society must be broken up; its frame-woric dissolved; that is to say, a per- fect chaos must be made, out of wliich sliall arise a perfect paradise. You must first pass through a vast, liowling wilderness, where no water is; and tlien' (if, indeed, your carcass does not fall in the wilderness) you will be con- ducted into the promised land. In these ways does unbelief make his on- sets, suiting his methods to the dispositions of the age, or to the circumstances of individu- als. The Christian repels them with the shield of Faith, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. He possesses the divine Word, which is full of promises, and that faith wliich is a deep conviction of things not seen, and tlie substance or foundation of things hoped ibr. Therefore, he gives no quarter to unbelief; God hath spoken, it is enough. There is a mansion for him ; he will possess it His Savior has conquered and reigns. • He will conquer and reign also. He belioldsj by faith, a glorious mansion, a palm of victory, a song of triump^h, a crown of life. Animated by the prospect, he fights his way through all his foes; and as he fights he "The glorious crown of Righteousness, To me reiiched out, I view; Conqueror through Christ, I soon shall riso And wear it aa my due." 46 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES MATTHEW, Chap, xviii: verse 11. JOHIS', Chap, vi: verse 51. EEVELATION, Chap, v: verse 9. JOHI^, Chap, iv: verse 42. 1 JOHN, Chap, iv: verse 14. LUKE, Chap, ii : verse 30. ACTS, Chap, iv verse 12. 1 COPJXTH'NS. Chap, i: verse 30. THE IMPERIAL PHILANTHROPIST. Who gave himself a ransom for all. 1 Tim. ii : 6. The h.apless crew upon the reef are cast; And round them rages wild the furious blast: Deep calls to deep with wide-mouthed thunder- ing roar, Loud beat the billows on the rock-bound shore; Crash after crash is heard with fearful shock, As the boat dashes on the craggy rock. The affrighted crew nor skill nor courage have, To save their bark from the devouring wave; Russia's great Czar beholds them on the reef. And nobly hastens to afford relief: Boldly he plunges in the boiling waves; And all the fury of the tempest braves. He leaps on board, and with a skillful hand, Through rocks and breakers, brings them safe to land. "We have here a picture of danger and of deliverance. Peter the Great, Emperor of all the Eus.sias, had been sailing in one of his yachts as far as the Ladoga Lake; finding himself re- freshed by the sea broez6, instead of landing at St. Petersburg, he sailed down the Neva toward the open sea of the Gulf of Finland. The day had been very fine; toward evening, however, the weather suddenly changed ; the Em- peror resolved to land, but he had scarcely reached the shore, when the storm burst forth in all its fury. The "RELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES, i7 waves rose and beat against the craggy rocks of the coast, and the wind roared from the wild sky with a thundering voice; in a few minutes a black cloud, let down like a curtain, hid the scene from view. Still, however, the Em- peror looked and listened; he thought he heard the voice of distress mingling with the yell of the storm ; his i)ene- trating fflance soon discovered a boat struggling against the rolling surge, that was drivinj? it toward the furious breakers. The men, most of them being soldiers, are evidently at a loss what to do; presently the boat is dashed upon a reef; the sea breaks over it mount- ains high. The Emperor immediately sends a vessel to their aid, but in vain ; the men on board want both skill and courage to execute the dangerous task. The poor men on the reef, seeing them- selves deserted by their companions, rend the air with their jDiteous cries for help; the Emperor can contain himself no longer; he springs into his own boat, calling on all who have hearts to dare for their brethren to follow him. By great exertions he reaches as near to the sufferers as the breakers will al- low; he perceives that he is yet too far off to aid them; what they need is a skillful pilot; he plunges into the rag- ing billows; bravely he buffets the mountain surge, now floating on the topmost wave, now sinking in the depths beneath; soon he gains the boat; he springs on board like a de- livering angel. The men, resouled at sight of the Emperor risking his life to save them, renew their efforts; they soon get off the shoal into deep water, and the Emperor guides them skillfully through the rock? and shoals, and brings them safe to land. Now he is overwhelmed with the grateful demonstrations of those whom he has saved from the jaws of destruc- tion, and of those happy wives and children, who. but for him, would now have been orphans and widows; he en- joys the luxury of doing good ; he feels most truly that '• it is more blessed to give than to receive." "The quality of mercy is not strained; It droppetli as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. Jt is twice blessed; It blesselh him who gives, and him who takes, 'T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown." We admire, and very justly too, the surprising condescension, the tender compassion, the heroic courage, and the consummate skill of the Emperor of all the Eussias in risking his life for the sake of a few poor men ; but what is this compared with the grace of our Lord and Savior, '' JesusV The Em- peror lost nothing of his dignity in doing what ho did ; he laid aside none of his titles; he assumed not a lower rank; in the boat, among the waves, and on the shoal, he was still an Em- peror. But Jesus laid his glory by; the glory that he had with the Father before the world was; the glory result- ing from creative power; the glory of guiding the armies of earth and heaven ; the glory of eternity. " He emptied himself," " he made himself of no rep- utation." The master becomes a slave; the king becomes a subject; the maker of worlds becomes a creature; the God becomes a worm! How surprising this condescension! how wonderful this hu- mility I " Bound every heart and every bosom burn." And O, with what tender compassion Jesus pitied us, as he saw us exposed to the gulf of eternal death ! In the depths of our misery, he exclaimed, "Behold, I come!" and immediately hastened to our relief. O, how he weeps, groans, prays, and dies for us, and for our salvation ! He pities our ignorance ; he groans for our unbelief; he weeps for the hardness of our heart ; he dies for our guilt. What heroic courage Tie displays in 48 RELiaiOUS ALLEGOlilES. • working out our deliverance! How he grapples Avith the powers of darkness! How he triumphs over temptation, pov- erty, and shame ! How ho conquers principalities and thrones, making a nhow of them openly ! He wrests from death his dreadful sting, proves victori- ous over the grave, and opens the gates of Paradise to all believers. What di- vine wisdom, also, he manifests in the work of redemption ; in securing to man his liberty, and to God his glory. How skillfully the Savior confines all the sophistry of the devil; how wonder- fully he ianswers all the cavils of his adversaries ! How, by his questions, does he take the wise in their own craftiness! His laws fill with admira- tion the hearts of his worshipers. How skillfully he guides his followers through the rocks and shoals of temptation and ein, and lands them safely on the banks of deliverance! "Vcrilj", he hath done all things well." Hallelujah! But for Avhom did the Savior labor and suffer? Peter risked his life for mortals like himself; Jesus gave his for beings infinitely beneath him. Peter for his own soldiers, Jesus for those who were arrayed under the banner of his great foe; Peter for his own sub- jects, Jesus for the subjects of another kingdom; Peter rescued merely his friends, Jesus died for the salvation of his enemies. Herein is love : " God commendeth his love toward us in that while we were yet sinners;" conse- quently enemies, "Christ died for us." In the case before us — one rather of contrast than comparison — we see the men, re-spirited by the presence of their Emperor, come to save them, labor with all their might; had they not done so, they could not have been saved, not- Avithstanding all the skill, power, and good-will of their Prince. But we, alas! stupid and ignorant as Ave are, Avhen our Deliverer comes to our aid, are found questioning his skill, deny- ing his poAver, and disbelieving his kind intentions; instead of w^orking "out our OAvn saK'ation," with fear and trembling, Avhile he works in us, helping us both to Avill and to do of his good pleasure. Those Avho Avere saved from death by the philanthropic Emperor, showered upon him CA'ery demonstration of grati- tude ; they invoked eternal blessings on his head, and devoted their Ha'cs to his service ; and shall not Ave be grateful to our Spiritual deliverer? His name ought to be to us above CA-ery name. His Salvation is; to the man that be- licA'cs, Christ is precious; he meditates upon his Avondrous love, upon his un- paralleled condescension, upon his he- roic courage, upon his tender comj^as- sion, and upon his divine wisdom, until the fire of grateful emotion burns Avithin him, and he presents himself a living sacrifice, holy and accej^table before the Lord, saying: " Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were an offering far too small ; Love so amazing! so divine! Demands my life, my soul, my all." And he devotes himself, accordingly, to the service of his King and Savior. As a good subject, he will obey His laws, and seek to promote the peace and. prosperity of his kingdom; as a good soldier, he will follow his Captain through every danger and every death, and having gained the victory, he Avill ground his arms at Jesus' feet, and so be ever Avith the Lord. EELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES. 49 JAMES, Chap. V : verse 20. MICAH, Chap, li : verso 10. . •ephesia:ns, Chap, v: verse l-i. LUKE, Chap, xxii; verse 46, PSALM cxli : verse 5. TITUS, Chap, i: verse 13. EOMANS, Chap, xiii ; verse 11. LUKE, Chap. XX : verse 36. THE WINTRY ATMOSPHERE. Therefore let us not sleep, as do others ; but let us watch and be sober. 1 IViess. v : 6. TtrE icy mountains lieve lift up on hitjh Their barren peaks toward the arctic sky; Terrific regions, wliere grim Winter reigns, And bends the whirlwind in his fiosty chains. All life has fled, save where the shaggy beast Prowls with intent on hnmnn blood to feast; 'Tis natures tomb; no living voice is heard, Of mnrinnring brook, nor clieerful warbling bird; No leafy tree, nor smiling fields of green, Nor corn luxuriant waving, here is seen. In this cold clime some mariners are found — Two, froze to death, lie stretched upon the ground; Others, more wise, to keep themselves awake, They leap and shout, and strive their friends to wake. One plies the rod — yet from nil anger free — To rouse his neighbor from his lelharg}'; Deatli of his prey, while thus engaged, he cheat^ And finds himself revive the more lie beats. Tiiese work and live, although the conflict's sorej The rest they slumber and awake no more Here we have a picture of the polar regions ; th-e accamulatijit^ masses of ice raise to the wky their snowy suni- mits, the formation, perhaps, of future K-eheri^s. ILtc Winter sits securely upon his throne of desolation. Unmo- 50 RELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES, lested by the Solar King, he sways his icy sceptei". The very winds are hushed to silence by his power; a desolate and terrible region. It is the sheeted sep- nlcher of ZS^ature deceased. No signs of life are seen, except the polar beast, fitted for his dreary abode. No sound of rippling brook, nor voice of joyous bird, echoes through the icy cliffs. To bless the eye, no leafy forests wave to the breeze; no cheerful fields of living green appear. To bless the heart, no rising corn, the all-sustaining food of man, bends with its weight of wealth. In this inhospitable climate, man, if he possess not a stout heart, soon dies. A drowsiness steals over him ; he feels a very great inclination to lay down; then cold chills throughout his life's blood slowly creep; he sinks into a lethargy, from which he never more awakes. In the picture are seen a few mari- ners who are thrown into this unfriendly climate. Two of them, in consequence of giving way to their drowsy feelings, have fallen asleep. It is the slumber of the gi'ave. The others, aware of the deadly influence of intense cold, exert themselves to keep it off. They leap about and cry aloud; they are alarmed for their companions; they strive to arouse them from their dangerous sleep. One, perceiving his friend to have some signs of life in him, procures a rod; he lays it on unsparingly ; he finds himself benefited by the exercise ; he continues it ; he is successful ; he saves the life of his friend; they continue actively em- ployed until deliverance appears. Thus, then, lives are preserved. The rest, cast into the deep sleep of death, are left to the beasts of prey. The ivintry atmosphere represents that spiritual declension that too frequently happens. Piety is in danger of freez- ing to death. The Church has gone too far north. The thermometer of holi- ness has sunk almost to zero. The sun of righteousness casts but a few feeble flickering raj's athwart the gloom pro- found. Fearful state indeed! The still- ness of spiritual death prevails. The shaggy one alone is alive and active. "He goeth about as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour." The voice of prayer is hushed. No joyful halleluiahs break the monotony of the awful solitude. Doctrine and discipline are neglected. Even the all-sustaining Word of God is forsaken. Melancholy position! She will soon become a mere iceberg, dashing herself and others into oblivion. It has sometimes occurred ' that, by the faithful prayers and active labors of one saint, the Church has been brought out of the wintry atmosphere and been saved. This one living dis- ciple brings the whole Church to Jesus, the Son of Righteousness, and keeps her there by faith until the whole tide of Jiis rays fall full upon her. Her frozen heart now begins to thaw; soon it melts into penitence and love; now the voice of prayer breaks forth as the morning; the song of praise again mounts upward; God's house is filled with worshipers; ministers are clothed wnth salvation; converts are multiplied, and the sons of God shout aloud foi The wintry atmosphere may, further- more, denote the condition of individual Christians when thrown into the society of the wicked, when compelled, in the order of providence, to dwell in the "tents of Kedar." In the absence of the genial influerses of religious ordi- nances, the freezing influences of un- godly principles and practices prevail. Infidelity itself may, perhaps, lift up its daring front, and defy the God of the armies of Israel — deny the inspira- tion of the sacred page, and laugh tho Christian to scorn as a weak enthusiast. If unwatchful, the professor will at first fall a prey to the stupor of indifference. Then the chilling influence of sin will creep over him; the life's blood of his piety is arrested in its course; heart EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 51 and intellect are benumbed; Faith, Hope, and Love are now but indistinct images of the past. He is in danger of spiritual death. As in the engraving, we see one arousing his companions with a rod or stick, so the Christian should endeavor to awaken his brother when he sees him falling beneath the influence of a wicked atmosphere. He may possess more Christian experience or more spiritual understanding; he has a stronger faith or is better acquainted with the wiles of the devil; these are so many gifts or graces, that he is in duty bound to exert for the sal- vation of his brother; hence, he is to exhort and admonish him with all long-suffering and faithfulness. If this fails, he is to reprove, nay, to " rebuke him sliarply," and in no wise to suffer sin upon his brother. Though it may seem harsh, yet he is to persevere as long as any signs of life remain, lest he perish for whom Christ died; he will tell him of the danger to which he exposes his immortal soul, of the reproach he will bring upon re- ligion if he falls into sin, of the wounds he will again inflict upon the sacred heart of Jesus; that he will cover heaven with sack- cloth, and make hell echo with exultations of fiendish delight; he will not spare in order to arouse him from his slumber. With the ham- mer of God's Word he will strike him, with the sword of God's Spirit he will pierce him, and with the fuel of God's love he will en- kindle a fire round about him. He is success- ful; soon the sleeper moves; he ftielts, he weeps, he prays; in his gratitude, he exclaims, " Let the righteous smite me, it is an excel- lent oil unto me;" faithful are the wounds of a friend! Thus the active Christian, by his perseverance, under God, saves a soul from death, and hides a multitude of sins. Most beneficial, also, has the exercise been to himself; it has proved the means of his own safety; by it he has been kept watchful and prayerful ; his gifts aOd graces have been strengthened; the more he labored for his brother, the more he was blessed in his own soul. So true is the promise, " He that water- eth others, shall be watered also himself" The wintry atmosphere is such a dangerous region that the Almighty himself becomes, as it were, alarmed for the safety of his children when he sees them exposed to its influence; he uses the rod of correction in order to keep them awake; he uses it in love; whom he loveth he chasteneth. Woe! woe! unto us, when he commands the ministers of affliction to ''let us alone." Poverty, reproach, sick- ness, and death are employed by our heavenly Father as instruments of correction, yet they are blessings in disguise. He gives us poverty in time, that we may be invested with the riches of eternity ; reproach, that we may re- ceive the plaudits of the King Eternal ; sick- ness of body, that the soul may flourish in immortal health ; Death, to usher us into Life, into his immediate presence, that where he is there we may be also. God's children have borne witness in time, and they will bear wit- ne.ss to all eternity, "That it was good lor them to have been afflicted." " Long unafflicted, undismayed. In pleasure's path secure I strayed; Thou mad'st me feel the chastening rod, And straight I turned unto my God; What though it pierced my fainting heart, I blessed the hand that caused the smart, I taught my tears awhile to fiow, But saved me from eternal woe." "In sable cincture, shadows vast, Deep-tinged and damp, and congregated clouds, And all the vapory turbulence of heaven, Involve the face of things. Thus winter falls, A heavy gloom oppressive o'er the world, Through Nature shedding influence malign." "Ocean itself no longer can resist The binding fury; but, in all its rage Of tempest taken by the boundless frost. Is many a fathom to tlie bottom chained ; And bid to roar no more — a bleak expanse, Shagged o'er with wavy rocks, cheerless and void Of every life; that from the dreary months Flies conscious southward. Miserable they! Who, here entangled in the gathering ice, Take their last look of the descending sun; While, full of death, and fierce with tenfold frost, The long, long night, incumbent o'er tlieir heads. Falls horrible." — Thompson. 11 52 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 1 PETER, Chap, v: verse 8. PSALM xxxiv : verse 7. 2 KINGS, Chap, vi : verse 17. PSALM iii: verse 6. 1 PETER, Chap, iii: verse 12. PROVERBS, Chap, ii: verse 8. PSALM xxvii: verse 11. PSALM Ixxxiv : verse 7. THE PROTECTED TRAVELER. For I, saith the Zech. II: 5. Lord, will he a loall of fire round about. 'TIS night: the Traveler with labor spent, Beneath the forest's shade has pitched his tent; He and his household soon are fast asleep. Their toilsome journey makes their slumbers deep; Above their heads the stars are glowing bright. Like diamonds sparkling on the breast of night; This is the signal for the savage beast To roam the forest for his bloody feast; Leopards and lions round the tent now prowl. And wake the woodland with their fearful howl; The Traveler, startled at the dreadful sound, A blazing fire soon kindles all around; The monsters see it, and with horrid roar, Rush through the thicket and appear no more. As when Elisha "mid the Syrian band, Saw sword and spear arrayed on every hand. In gracious answer to the prophet's prayer. Angelic banners flashed upon the air; .Jehovah's armies round about him came With burning chariots and steeds of flame; The fiery seraphs circled all his path, And kept him safely from the Syrian's wrath. In these days of emigration, multi- tudes are continually leaving the homes of their fathers for distant climes. The populous cities of the old world are traversed; the broad blue ocean is traversed ; the vast forests of the new EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. ■world are traversed, in order to find a home of peace and plenty. The engrav- ing shows a family tented and guarded for the night. The travelers, wear}^ with the day's journey, seek a commodious place whereon to pitch their tent. The sun already begins to sink below the horizon ; the shadows lengthen, and night, silent and majestic, assumes her empire over the earth. Stars of glit- tering beauty bespangle her bosom and reflect their brilliancy on the broad leaves of the forest. , The travelers re- tire to rest; wooed by fatigue, "balmy sleep" soon lights upon their eyelids; their slumbers are deep, but they are soon to be disturbed. Night gives the signal for the beasts of prey to come forth from their dens; hungry and thirsty for blood, they come; roaming, ravening, and roaring, they come; the Woods echo their feai'ful bowlings; they scent out the travelers, they surround the tent, they clamor loudly for its in- mates; di'eadful is the confusion; the beasts growl and fight with each other, that each might have the prey to him- self; the travelers awake in trembling distress. One of them has heard of the effect of fire upon wild beasts; while they are quarreling, he quickly lights his brand, puts it to some dry leaves, and kindles a blaze; to this he adds more fuel, nor ceases heaping it on, till he has encircled the tent with flames. His efforts are successful ; the wild beasts are now affrighted, and roaring dreadfully with fear and rage, they rush impetuously through the trees, and come near the tent no more. The preservation of the traveler from the fury of the wild beasts by means of fire, represents the preservation of the Christian from the attacks of Satan and his helpers, by the Almighty. Among the Jews, and many other an- cient nations, fire Avas regarded as em- blematical of the Deity, and, indeed, not without reason, for on several well-au- thenticated instances did the Almighty manifest himself under the appearance of fire. Moses was summoned before a court of fire to receive his commission as deliverer of Israel. God was in the fire. In their flight from Egypt, and after travels in the desert, the Israel- ites were guided by a column of fire. Their salvation and the Egyptians' overthrow, for Jehovah was there. In his reception of the sacrifices and pray- ers of his people, God answered by fire. When he gave his law upon the terrible Mount, he spake out of the midst of the fire. And when long after he would republish his law to a.11 na- tions, the commission of the Apostles as the deliverers of the world, was crowned with fire ; God was with them, and to be with them to the end of the world. The Christian is a traveler ; he is traveling throiigh the wilderness of this world; he will pass through it only once; in whatever part of the wilderness he pitches his tent, he is safe from all the open attacks of his foes; his faith, love, and obedience se- cure to him the protection of the Al- mighty. He is holy in heart and life; holiness tends to God's glory, and upon "the glory there is a defense;" this is the glory that dwells in the midst of him, and where this is, there will be also "the wall of fire round about." The celestial fire burning between the Cherubim in the Jewish temple but shadowed forth him in whose heart Christ dwells by faith — the living "tem- ple of the Holy Spirit." Since his expulsion from the realms of light, the Devil has hated with per- fect hatred every symbol of Jehovah's presence and glory; he hates the light; he is the prince of darkness; he is the great extinguisher, putting out the light of truth and holiness as often as he can effect it. He thought to extinguish the "Light of the AYorld," by nailing it to a tree, but, in so doing, he onlj^ broke into pieces the vase that contained it, 54 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, causing it to shine forth with brilliancy, and to fill the whole earth with glory. The great adversary is spoken of as " going about" the world as a roaring lion, "seeking whom he may devour;" once, when prowling about in this wise, he met with one of the saints of God, wliom he desired to worry and devour, but behold ! there was a hedge of burning bushes all around him. In vain he tried to get at him ; though used to fire, he could not stand the fire of love and holiness; he knew very well, too, that no one could put out this fire, demolish this burner, except the man himself Satan is permitted to tempt; he lays his plots with hellish ingenuity; he execut^is them with cruelty worthy of a devil ; to destroy this man of God, he called into his eervice the pestilence, the sword, the tornado, and the lightning. The lightning came and did its work ; the sword came and did its work; the pestilence came and did its work; the tornado came and did its work; yet the man of God is safe; he lives in his integrity; the hedge of fire around him burns higher and brighter, and becomes a beacon of hope to all the children of men. The devil, dis- comfited, leaves him, and flees away to his own place, because "Job sinned not nor charged God foolishly." In like manner every child of God is sur- rounded by a divine protection; the servants of Satan are just like their master; they hate the light, and him that brings it; but were they to beset him, as the Assyrian army be- fiet the prophet Elisha, he would be safe. The chariots of fire, and the horses of fire, with Seraphim and Cherubim, would encompass him. He may lay him down in peace; a wall of fire protects him, high as heaven, deeper than hell, wide as eternity; fire! fire! fire! formless, impetuous, mysterious, and devour- ing fire, is his safeguard and trust. As the traveler by building a fire protects not himself only, but all who are in the tent, BO the Christian, by his faith, love, and obe- dience, secures the protection and blessing of God upon all his household. " I will show mercy," saith the Holy One of Israel, "unto thousands of generations of those that love me and keep my commandments;" and one who had lived long in the world, and had seen much of it, declared, " I have never seen the righteous forsaken, nor his posterity begging bread." The traveler may put out his fire without water; he can do it by omitting to supply it with fuel, or by casting earth upon it, thereby smothering it, and thus expose himself and others with him to all the dangers of the for- est. So the Christian may extinguish the fire of Almighty protection, the light of the Holy Spirit; he may do so, too, without employing the waters of transgression ; he may do it by withholding the proper fuel, by " leaving off to do good," by neglecting the means of grace- He may do it by casting earth upon it, by let- ting the world gain the ascendency in his heart and affections; the love of the world will put out the fire, "quench the Spirit." and leave the man again exposed to the malice of the evil one. In the Book of the Prophets we read of some who "kindle a fire" and walk in the light thereof, who yet "lie down in sorrow," they are not safe; these may be the self-righteous, the mere nominal professor, who builds a fire with the wood, hay, and stubble of his own performances ; it lacks th« heat of love and holine-ss; God is not in it. Satan heeds it not; he breaks through it as easilv as a lion through a cobweb, and seizes upon the defenseless sin- ner for a prey. Of others, it is said that they " encompass themselves about with sparks merely; this may mean those who esteem themselves good enough already, good naturally ; hence, they have no need of performances of any kind. The man of this class neglects, as useless, the light of truth, and faith, and the fire of love; he can dispense with Bible, Priest, and Temple ; he lies down in peril; the devil don't mind a few sparks. It was a custom among the ancient high- landers of Scotland, when they would arouse . the people for any great purpose, to send throughout the land a cross dipped in blood ; wherever the cross was received, there the people immediately kindled a blazing fire; lience it was called "the Fire Cross." The blood-stained Cross of Christ has been sent and is now going throughout the world ; the purpose for which it is sent, the greatest of all achievements; wherever it is received, a fire is kindled amid the surrounding darkness. The fire of a Savior's love, the fire of Almighty power : " Jesus' love the nations fires. Sets the kingdoms in a blaze.' Hasten ! O hasten ! ye who bear the cross, ye ministersofhisthatdohis pleasure; carry round " the Cross" until a fire shall be kindled every where, and the whole earth be filled with tho glory of God. EELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES. 55 2 CHRONICLES, Chap, XV : verse MATTHEW, Chap, vii: verses 7, 8. PROVERBS, Chap, iii : Verses 13, 15. PROVERBS, Chap, ii: verses 4, 5. MATTHEW, Chap, xiii: verse 46. ' 2 PETER, Chap, i: verse 1. REVELATION, Chap, xxi : verse 7. ROMANS, Chap, viii; verse 17.- TTIE PEARL OF GPvE AT PRICE. For ye are bought with a 2)nce. 1 Cor vi seek me early shall find yne. Frov. viir: 17. 20. Those that Behold the slave with joyful beaming eyes, Holds up to view his glorious glittering prize; A pearl, more precious than its weight in gold; The price of Freedom, and of bliss untold: The prince who .promised the auspicious meed, From his rich palace hastens down with speed; With his own hand — unrolled that all may see — The title-deed presents of Liberty, The slave may enter now that mansion fair, A slave no longer, but a rightful heir. , So when the sinner by Apollj'on bound, The priceless pearl of Gospel grace has found; He breaks his chains, and into Freedom springs, No more a slave, ne ranks with priests and kings; By the great Lord of all, to him tis given, To be his child on earth, and heir in heaven. A certain Prince, desirous of adorn- ing his coronet with a pearl of the greatest value, promises liberty to any- one of his slaves who shall find one of a certain number of carats; the Prince owns, upon his manor, a " Fishery," where the slaves, at proper seasons of the year, dive for pearls. The usual mode of operation is as follows; The divers, throwing off their clothes, dresa 56 EELIGIOUS AIjIjJSCJOIIIES, themselves in complete suits of white cotton ; this is to protect their bodies from the contact of the medusae, or sea- nettles ; then each diver, letting himself over the side of the boat, places his feet upon a stone, which is held by the 'seibor or puller up. On his left arm he carries a small basket to hold the oys- ters he may collect (the pearl is found in the fleshy part, near the joint of the shell) ; then closing his nostrils with a piece of elastic horn, he gives the sig- nal with his arm, and is immediately lowered down; the stone enables him to sink without difficult3^ Here, in a period varying from thirty to a hun- dred seconds, he employs himself in fill- ing his basket. As soon as this is done, or if he wants breath, he jerks the rope, and is immediately hauled to the surface. In the eno^ravino; is seen the fortunate slave, who has secured the prize; as soon as he discovers his good fortune, forsaking boat and basket, he leaps overboard and makes toward the shore, exclaiming, " I 've found it! I 've found it!" Others shout with him; the Prince, his master, hears the tumult, and learn- ing the cause, repairs without delay to the bank of the river, to receive the pearl, and to bestow on the finder the promised reward, where, in the pres- ence of all, he reads his deed of manu- mission, and proclaims him free. And he is free; his head, and heart, and hands are now his own; he is now free. Happy man ! Liberty, fair sister of Piety, has stooped upon the wing to bless hin\. Nor is this all ; he is free to call his former master Abba, that is, father, and his mistress, Imma, that is, mother; he is, according to custom, adopted as a son; his future path is irradiated with knowledge, wisdom, and happiness. By the slave finding the costly pearl, nnd obtaining thereby his liberty, is signified the sinner, who finds "the Kingdom of Heaven;" or who, in other words, experiences religion; this puts him into possession of a liberty more precious than gold, and more to be de- sired than fine gold: A liberty unsung By Poets, and by Senators unpraised; Which monarchs can not grant, nor all the powers Of earth and liell confederate, takeaway: A liberty which persecution, fraud, Oppression, prisons, have no power to bind; Which, who so tastes, will be enslaved no more. This is the liberty of Gospel salvation ; a sinner is a slave — a slave not to one master, but to many, who exercise over him a cruel despotism. Satan takes the lead in ty'rannizing over him; it is true, he is a willing slave, but not tho less a slave for that ; for let him but try to free himself from his power, and he at once feels that he is bound ; Satan is his lord and master; he says to him "go, and he gocth ; come, and he cometh; do this, and he doeth it." He is a captive, led about just as the devil pleases. Miserable bondage ! Siti has dominion over him; forbidden objects control his passions, and his passions control his will; he is enslaved to the law of sin, he is chained to " this body of death." Sin wields over him its scepter with des- potic sway; "he is sold under sin;" even when he w^ould do good, evil is present with him. Again, he is a slave to the terrors of the law; Mount Sinai still stands, giving forth its dreadful voice of many thunders, and emitting its flashes of devouring fire; he stands quaking and trembling beneath its fear- ful brow. He is also " subject to bond- age through fear of death;" although he may make a show of courage, when among his guiltj' companions, over the bottle, or on the battle-field, yet he dreads his approach ; his very image embitters his sweetest pleasure, and makes him miserable. These are some of the lords that exercise dominion over the poor sinner; verily, he is bound! The King of Holiness off'ers liberty EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES 57 to the sinner, on condition that he ex- ercise " repentance toward God, and faith in Jesus Christ;" thus runs the proclamation. The slave who found the pearl was obedient. What did he know at first about pearls? He might have argued with himself, at least, that it was impossible that such uncouth, muddy oysters could contain such priceless gems, and so have given up the idea, and with it freedom; but he sought in the manner prescribed, and* found ; thus his obedience secured an ample reward. Salvation is found only by those who seek aright. That the sinner might not lose his labor, the Almighty Lord tells him where it may be found; he tells him to look for it in his word, in his house, and ordinances; he tells him how he is to conduct the search; ho is to lay aside his self-righteousness and put on sack- cloth; he is to descend into the depths of humility, and there, b}^ earnest, per- severing prayer, and living faith, to seek until he finds; and the promise is, " If thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasure, then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God." But who shall describe the glorious liberty of the children of God. Satan reigns and tyrannizes over them no longer; his chain is broken, his alleg- iance is renounced; he is no longer the proud conquei'or, leading his captive in chains; he lies bruised beneath the Christian's feet; he may threaten, but he can not harm; he may tempt, but he can not compel. He who finds Gospel freedom is de- livered from the dominion of sin; his .understanding is now enlightened, the darkness of ignorance has passed, the true light now shines ; his mind is now free — free to do good. He takes pleas- ure in righteousness. "O." he exclayns, " how I iove thy law !" Henceforth the testimonies of Jehovah are the songs of his rejoicing in the house of his pilgrimage; in him the promise is ful- filled, " Sin shall not have dominion over you.' From the curse of the law, more- over, he is free. Jesus has been made a curse for him; there is, therefore, now no condemnation; for him the fires of Sinai no longer burn; Jesus has quenched them with his blood; for him its voice of many thunders is forever hushed; Jesus has whispered, "Peace be still." Death has now for him no more terrors ; death is a vanquished enemy; he is numbered among his gains. Why should he fear who has beheld " the burst gates, the demolish ed throne, the crushed sting, the last gasp of vanquished death!" Thanks be unto God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ! O, the glorious liberty of the children of God! The slave has become a son; he may now call God Abba, Father, and the Chui'ch Imma, Mother ; he is now an heir of God, and fellow-heir with Jesus Christ; he receives a clear title- deed to mansions in the skies. Heaven for him Opens wide Her ever-durino; gates, harmonious sound On golden binges turning. He is now free to see the King in his beauty, to see him as he is who loved him and gave himself for him; to hold converse with angels and archangels, with all the hoi}' and the Avise, "Glo- rious liberty," indeed! wondrous free- dom! He is free to explore the regions of immortality and love; and as the years of interminable duration roll on- ward, he will live yet more free. " All hail, triumphant Lord, Who sav'st us with thy blood; Wide be thy name adored, Thou rising, reigning Godl With thee we rise, With thee we reign, And empires gain Beyond the skies." 58 KELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES EPHESIAXS, Chap, iii: verses 18, 19. LUKE, Chap, xxiv: verse 45. PSALM cxix: verse 18. ISAIAH, Chap. XXV : verse 1. PSALM cxix : verse 130. MATTHEW Chap, xiii: verse 16. LUKE, Chap, li : verse 30. PSALM xvii: verse 15. THE GREAT DISCOVERY. Blessed are your eyes for they see. Matt, xiii : 16 And to know the love of Christ lohich ixLsseth knowledge. JEph. iii : 19. When brave Balboa gained the mountain's height, A glorious prospect burst upon his sight; The great Pacific stretched before him lies, And fills with new delight his ravished eyes; sight sublime! It meets the distant sky, The splendid image of eternity. He gazes on that sea, his hope of old, Whose waters wander by the realms of gold; Visions of wealth and glory fill his mind, And he forgets the toils he left behind. The dream is i-ealized! that dream sublime, That bore him onward through each deadly clime, O'er burning mountains and o'er stormy main, Through death and danger, far from ancient Spain, His bursting heart adores that mighty Power That brought him safely to behold this hour; He prostrate falls, his grateful homage pays, And to the God of heaven devoutly prays. Above is portrayed the great discov- ery of the Pacific Ocean, made by Bal- boa, a Spanish cavalier. Balboa had, for some time, settled down in Hispan- iola Here he cultivated a farm; but hearing of an expedition that was about to set out for the west, he determined to join it. He was greatly in debt, and the governor had issued a proclamation forbidding debtors to leave the island. KELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, 59 Balboa, however, was resolved to go. He caused himself to be rolled on board of one of the vessels in a cask. He did not make his appearance until the ship was far out at sea. The commander at first threatened to send him back ; but the ship pursued her way. He quickly rose into favor, became governor of the colony planted at the isthmus, and dis- tinguished himself by the talents of command. Rumors of the gold coun- try still further westward continued to inflame the minds of the Spaniards. Distance, disease, mountains covered with eternal snows, and oceans tossed by perpetual storms could no longer restrain them. Balboa took the lead of the expedition, and pushed on to con- quest. Many of the Indian tribes were to be conquered. These brave but de- fenseless warriors soon fell before the arms of the Spaniards, who, the more blood they shed, the more they thirsted for gold. An alliance was formed with a powerful cazique, who sent Balboa a rich present in gold and slaves. On the daring Spaniard led his soldiers Indian tribes were conquered, mount- ain difficulties passed, and burning, sickly regions traversed. Now the moment is at hand when he is to bo more than recompensed for all his labors. The misty summits of the hills rise before him. One of these is pointed out to him as the object of his search. He commands his troops to halt. lie Limself ascends the hill alone, with his drawn sword. Having reached the top, ho casts his eyes around; the Pacific spreads out before him; imbued with the religion of his country, he falls on his knees, weeping, and offers thanks to God for permitting him to see this glorious sight. On his return to Darien, the whole population poured forth to meet him. They hailed him as the glory of Spain, as the gift of heaven sent to guide them into the possession of honors and riches incalculable. The Pacific Ocean, and its discovery by the bold Spaniard, may serve to il- lustrate the ocean of God's love, and the joyful feelings of him who, for the first time, discovers it., The sinner is settled down in his sins ; he is em- ployed in cultivating Satan's husbandry ; ''he is sowing to the flesh." He hears of a revival of religion, of an expedi- tion heavenward; he is determined to join it; he is in debt — dead in tres- passes and sins. Satan, his governor, will not permit him to quit. He hedges up his way round about him. He is, however, resolved to join the expedi- tion that is bound for heaven. By a violent effort he escapes and joins the converts. He is decided; he seeks ear- nestly the salvation of his soul. His way is now beset with difficulties ; ene- mies appear on every hand to impede his progress; his old companions come to entice him, his old sins come to tempt him, and his old master strides before him the whole breadth of the way. Ho now strengthens his alliances.with the children of God. He receives some- times some gracious tokens of the di- vine favor; he is encouraged to perse- vere ; on he goes, weeping, praying, wrestling, fighting. His old companions are silenced; his sins no longer have do- minion over him, and Satan falls like lightning from heaven. Now the time of triumph is near, when he will be more than paid for all he has endured. His heavenly guide directs him to the object of his inquiries. He ascends alone the mount — the sacred mount of Calvary. Ho casts his ej'CS around; the peaceful ocean of Almighty love spreads out before him. There it lays, covering all time and extending to eter- nity — immense, boundless, overwhelm ing. Wlien this Almighty sea of love His rising soul surveys, Transported with the view he's lost In wonder, love, and praise. All is peaceful above, below, within. 60 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOKIES, around. He has peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. A peace which passeth all understanding fills his breast. He is at peace with man and beast. It is as the open- ing of the gate of heaven to his soul. An immense region of truth, divine truth, is laid bare to his view. A new and heavenly light flashes over liis mind. Old things have passed away, and all things have become new. On this mount of vision he discovers that God is love — not only lovely and loving, but love^ nothing but love. In his nature and operations, love — pure, unexampled love. Here he beholds the Son of God, the maker of earth, the well beloved of heaven, suffering and dying for him, for all, for a world of sinners. For the foulest of the foul, he dies. He beholds, with astonishment, the tokens of his love. Earth is suddenly arrested in her retrograde motion, and rolled hack again to God. Strange darkness covers the world, that all might henceforth be light forever; the opened sep- ulchers proclaim life and immortality. Here he beholds a new and living way cast up — a highway from earth to heaven — and countless multitudes, leaving behind them the badges of their guilt, pollution, and wretchedness, and washed and clothed in the robes of salvation, ascend thereon. Forward they go, each one walking in his uprightness. A cloud over- shadows them for a little while; that is death. Soon they ascend toward the gates of the heavenly city. Now the golden portals are lifted up, and the children of glory enter in. A multitude, that none can number, are thus ransomed fi"om hell and the grave, and all through the love of God in Christ Jesus. Be- hold what manner of love is this that the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called the sons of God. Well might the rapt poet sing — I rode on the sky, Freely justified I, Nor envied Elijah his seat; My soul mounted higher, In a chariot of fire, And the moon it was under my feet. An indifferent spectator, walking far be- neath Balboa, seeing him prostrate on the mount, and with uplifted hands offering his thanksgiving, might have laughed him to scorn for a roadman, or have pitied him for his weakness. He may not have been so high. He knows not that the ocean exists. He per haps denies its existence altogether. Thus it often happens to the man of the world, when he sees converts, having tasted that the Lord is gracious, give vent to their feelings in a lively manner, or when he hears experienced Christians discourse on the love of God, it is foolishness to him. He considers the persons so acting to be "beside themselves," or very weak-minded. He may perhaps deny alto- gether the existence of vital godliness and re- ligious experience; yet if the skeptic would but "come and see" for himself, he would confe.ss that "the half was not told him." In order to make his great discovery, Bal- boa had to rise above the world. So it be- hooves him who would discover the great pacific of eternal love, to rise above sublunary things; especially must he surmount the fogs of prejudice, the mists of ignorance, and the clouds of unbelief which surround the surface of the earth. Having made his discovery, the Spaniard was at one rewarded with honor and glory. He looked upon the past with contempt, as not worthy to be compared with the splendor that awaited him. So he feels who realizes that God is love. He is clad \\\i\\ the " Best Jiobe." He looks with disgust on the past. He hates the vain pomps and glories of the earth; is astonished at his infatuation, in being so taken up with them; and yet what he now possesses is but as the drop to the teeming shower. The wealth of eternity awaits him. Balboa could not explore his vast prize. Had he traversed the ocean till this time, he would have gone over only a small portion of it; much of it he would never see. Realms of gold lay glittering upon its placid margin. Mines of wealth lay hidden beneath its purple wave. He had but found the key of this magazine of wealth. So the discoverer of Almighty love can know but little of his pre- cious prize while here below. Boundless, fathomless, endless, it spreads out before him, and will ever spread. Here he merely sips of its overflowings. He has but discovered the key of the treasure-house of love. O, tlie depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and goodness of Godl EELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES. 61 PSALM xxxix: verse 12. 1 PETER, Chap, i: verse 17. PSALM Ixxvii : verse 20. HEBREWS, Chap. XI : verse 13. 1 PETER, Chap, ii: verse 11. DEUTEROMT, Chap, xxxii: verse 10. 1 SAMUEL, Chap, ii: verse 9. PSALM Ixxiii : verse 24. PASSAGE THROUGH THE DESERT. TTiey wandered in deserts. Heh. xr : continuing city, bat seek one to come. -For here we have no Heb. XIII : 14. Amid the arid desert's burning sands, The caravan proceeds in various bands; Jew, Frank, and Mussulmau,- in search of gain, Unite to traverse the destructive plain. The desert drear, more terrible to brave, Than furious tempest on the ocean wave; The sky a molten dome of quiv'ring heat; The earth a furnace, glows beneath the feet; vTlu! wild waste echoes as they move along, ,With laugh of humorous tale or voice of song. Armed, and united, they no danger fear From lion's prowling, nor from robber's spear; But other foes ofttimes 'gainst them advance. More to be dreaded than the Arab's lance; The sandy column, and sirocco's blast. Laden with certain death, come rushing past. Down straight they fall, flat on their faces lie, While the destroying angel passes by ; Through varied dangers, thus their way they wend, Until at length they reach their journey's end. Here is represented the passage of a caravan through the great and terrible desert of Africa. Merchants being de- sirous of visiting the interior parts of Africa, for the sake of trading with the natives, form themselves into com- 62 BELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. panies foi* this jmrpose. Here may be seen Arabs, Jews, Franks, and others, uniting for a common end, re- gardless of the differences of country and of creed. They hire a certain num- ber of camels, with their drivers; they lay in their stock of goods, provisions, etc.; they furnish themselves with a compass, and with arms for defense. When all is prepared, the signal for departure is given, and the caravan moves onward; by degrees they leave all traces of the living world behind them; soon they come in • sight of the desert; evening now casts its shadows round them; they find a stopping place; here they rest for the night. In the morning they commence the perilous route; in a short time nothing- is beheld by the travelers but one vast ocean of sand, bounded only by the horizon ; as they move on the heat be- comes intense; the sky apj^ears a dome of molten fire; the earth glows like a furnace beneath their feet. A moment- ary gloom overspreads the faces of the travelers as they see scattered here and there, upon the sand, skeletons, the remains of former travelers. They shorten the distance by rehearsing tales of wit and humor. Sometimes the des- ert rings with the sound of their mer- ry songs; they trust to the guides for direction, and to the guards for safety; being well armed, they fear nothing. Sometimes, while yet on the border, the lion of the desert appears ; he sees them united and watchful ; he dare not attack them; he lashes his sides Avith his furious tail, and with a dreadful roar he bounds out of sight. Sometimes the Arab robbers, who think they have an hereditary right to plunder ti*avel- ers, attack the caravan ; they meet with a stout resistance, and, finding themselves worsted, they quickly dis- appear amid clouds of dust and sand. Other enemies, however, frequently appear, that laugh to scorn their might of union, and hold iu derision the shaking of the glittering spear; the pestilential simoon, with the speed of thought, comes rushing on toward them, and, unless they fall instantly upon their faces and hold their breath, they are all dead men. Sometimes they behold huge pillai-s of sand before •them, the sun gleaming through them, giving them the appearance of pyramids on fire; each one is large enough to bury the caravan ; now they move toward them with fearful rapidity; now they take another direction. The wind shifts, and, dashing against each other, they vanish in a storm of sand. Sometimes the caravan is refreshed by meeting with a fertile spot called an oasis; here is seen the grassy plain, the flowing fountain ; here is heard the voice of singing birds; here the palm, the vine, and the olive tree abound. New spirited, the caravan resumes its jour- ' ney, and in good time reaches the place of its destination. The passage through the desert may be considered as an allegorical repre- sentation of the passage of the Church of Christ through the moral desert of this Avorld. The Church is in qu6st of eternal gain. She seeks a city which is out of sight — "the New Jerusalem." The way thereto is through a moral des- ert, which is destitute of every heavenly jjlant. No living stream floAvs through the midst thereof. No food for the soul is there ; no provision for immortality. Above, around, beneath, the elements are, in themselves considered, unfriend- ly to spiritual life and spiritual prog- ress. Hence, the Church furnishes her- self with provisions — Christ, and the "Word of Christ ; her compass, the law of Jehovah ; her weapons, the whoJe armor of Cod; her watchmen and guides, the ministers of Jesus. • The caravan was exposed to danger and death from the lion, the robber, the moving sands, and the fell simoon. The Church, too, has her dangers to contend against. No sooner does she EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 6:1 commence her march, than Abaddon, the destroyer, comes out against her. If he sees her united, moving on firm- ly, and watchful withal, she is safe, and he kno^Y8 it. He gnashes his teeth with rage, and looks about for more defenseless prey. Woe, woe, to the straggler he may meet with in his wrath — to him who through indolence has lingered behind, or through pride thinks he can take care of himself — he falls a victim to his temerity. His fate becomes a monument of warning unto others. Next she is assailed by the dis- ciples of ancient heresies. These come forth against her with their rights of prescription and of proscription. Thej^ advance "damnable doctrines," and seek to plunder her of her heaven -born treas- ures. But the Church is armed, thor- oughly armed. The efficient panoply, "the whole armor of God," is round about her. The sword of the Lord and of Gideon prevails, and the spoilers, van- quished, retire amid the dust of their own confusion. But other foes some- times appear, more dangerous than Satan undisguised. Splendid images of idolatry present themselves, glittering with the gilded pageantry of pomj^ous ceremonies, impositions of unrighteous prerogative. Their tops reach the very heavens. They move to and fro, threat- ening to overwhelm the Church beneath their crushing weight. She looks on awhile in astonishment at such heaven- daring impiety. She stands firm; she is girt about with truth. With a loud voice she gives utterance to her faith, "Jehovah, he is the God! Jehovah, he is the God!" The sandy fabrics disap- pear like the moving columns of the desert. Sometimes, as a last resort of fiend- ish malice, the simoon of persecution is let loose upon her. Earth and hell combine. The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, saying, "Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us." The watchword is, "Destroy, destroy," and the whole power of the enemy is hurled against the Lord's anointed. Her ordinary' weapons of defense are here of no avail. She has recourse to '■'•all prayer;'' she falls down low in the dust. In God is all her trust; he is her help and her shield. She hides herself in him until this "calamity be overpast." In every conflict she comes off victorious, as long as she continues united and watchful. Sometimes the _Church is favored with extraordinary manifestations of divine power and love ; these are to her as an oasis in the desert. The river that makes glad the city of God pours its full streams into the midst of her. She enjoys a glorious revival ; it is a foretaste of heaven. She arises and puts on strength. Multitudes are added unto her. Clothed with salvation, she again moves onward in all the power of truth, and in the majesty of holiness, clear ao the sun, fair as the moon, and glorious as an army with banners. Above her waves triumphant the banner of Re- demption. Taking up the song of l)roj)hesy as she advances, she sings — In the wilderness shall burst forth waters, And torrents in the desert; And the glowing sand shall become a pool; The desert and the waste shall be glad, And the wilderness" shall rejoice and flonrish; Like the rose shall it beautifully flourish. Thus she goes forward from strength to strength, scattering in her path a new creation, until Mercy's triumphs are complete, and God is all in all. 64 RELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES. 2 TBIOTHY, Chap, iii: verse 2. JAMES, Chap, v: verse 3. MATTHEW, Chap, xix: verse 24. 1 JOHN, Chap, iii: verse 17. JOB, Chap. XX : verses 19, 20. PROVERBS, Chap, xxii: verse 16. HABAKKUK, Chap, ii: verse 9. ^ 1 CORINTH'NS, Chap, vi: verse 10. SELFISHKESS. He heapeth up riches and knoweth not who shall gather them. Ps. XXXIX : 6. 2'he covetous, whom the Lord abhorreth. Ps. x: 3. Look at the selfish man! See how he locks Tight in his arms his mortgages and stocks! While deeds and titles in his hands he grasps, And gold and silver close around him clasps. But not content with this, behind he drags A cart well laden with the pond'rous bags; The orphans'' wailings and the widow's woe, From mercy's fountain came no tears to flow; He pours no cordial in the wounds of pain. Unlocks no prison, and unclasps no chain; His heart is like the rock where sun nor dew Can rear one plant or flower of heavenly hue. No thought of mercy there may have its birth, For helpless misery or suffering worth; The end of all his life is paltry pelf, And all his thoughts are centered on — himself; The wretch of both worlds ; for so mean a sum, " First starved in this, then damned in that to comeJ Here is a poor fool "crouching be- neath" more than "two burdens." Look at him! See how he pants, and heaves, and groans beneath his load. With his right hand he grasps a large bag of gold and silver, together with bonds, titles, deeds, and mortgages; in his left he clutches fast stocks and pledges, while suspended to his left shoulder dangles interest upon interest. Around his waist is buckled a leathern girdle, to which a wagon is attached by EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 65 means of traces. This is loaded with bags and bales of rich annuities. He appears to have made "a clean sweep" wherever he has been ; desolation fol- lows in his train. On the left hand of this receiver-general stands a female, accompanied by two children. Look at them. They have come through the peltings of a winter's storm, poorly clad as they are, to lighten the poor man's load. They have nothing to carry. See! they are beseeching him to allow them to bear part of his burden. It would help them somewhat; it would circulate the blood, and keep them warm. It would benefit him, however, a great deal more — perhaps save his life. He looks angry; he growls at them; he curses them in the name of his God, and spurns them from his presence. The man can not be in his right, mind surely. Refusing assistance, on he goes again, lamenting very much the time he has lost, for "time" with him "is money." On he goes, puffing, and sweating, and dragging. At length, still followed by the woman and chil- dren, he comes to a bridge, thrown across a rapidly-rolling river. It looks quite safe ; as he proceeds, it bends and cracks with the weight, and just when he arrives at the middle, it gives way and down he goes, bags and all; ho sinks to the bottom like a stone. The dark wave rolls over him ; he dieth as a fool dieth; his memory has perished. The above engraving represents Self- ishness refusing the claims of distressed humanity. Perhaps all the manifesta- tions of sin in man may be traced to selfishness as their source. The war- rior in his pursuit of glory, the poli- tician in hunting for power, the covet- ous in scheming for wealth, the scholar in his aspirations for fame, all act from the principle of selfishness. Here the selfish principle manifests itself in the acquisition of money, in keeping it, and, of course, fi-xing the lieart upon it as an object worthy to bo adored. The Most High, looking down from the height of his holiness, pronounces the man ''fool." Fool, in so mistaking the true ends of life, in so mistaking the nature of things, as to think the soul could be satisfied with dust and corruption ; in employing the noble powers of the mind about things so base, mean, and contemptible; in loving that which can not return our love. Fool, in substituting the body for the soul, time for eternity, the world for God. Fool, to be " bit by rage canine of dying rich, guiWs blunder, and the loudest laugh of hell.''' Fool, in heap- ing up riches, and knowing not who shall gather them. " High built abundance heap on heap, for what? To breed new wants and beggar us the more, Then make a richer scramble for the throng, Soon as this feeble pulse which leaps so long, Almost by miracle is tired with play; Like rubbisii from disploded engines thrown, Our magazines of lioarded trifles fly; Fly diverse, fly to foreigners, to foes; New masters court, and call the former fools — How justly, for dependence on their stay, Wide scatter first our playthings, then our dust." This is bad enough, but, what is worse, the man of selfishness is a man of guilt — often of deep, double-dyed, damnable guilt. Even in its most in- nocent form, selfishness dethrones the blessed God from his proper place in the human heart. Selfishness is a rank idolator; he worships the creature more than the Creator. "Thou shalt have no other gods before me." Like the horse-leech, he is continually cry- ing. Give, give. He covets his neigh- bor's possessions; he is determined to obtain them if he can, either by fair means or by foul. To this end he often bears false witness against his neighbor; nay, he will destroy his reputation, sometimes take his life. He is a devourer of widows' houses; he forestalls and forecloses Avhcnever he can gain by so doing. Selfishness is a thief — first, in withholding what 66 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, belongs to Grod and the poor ; secondly, in actually seizing upon the property of others. See him go forth to talve possession of his neighbor's farm or house ! In the face of day he goes ; the sun is looking at him, and God is look- ing at him, and the prophet of God within his breast — conscience — remon- strates, as did the prophet Elijah, when Ahab had gone down to the vineyard of Naboth, to take possession thereof Bat Selfishness is deaf to the voice of the prophet, and the helpless family is turned out into the streets, and another inheritance is added to his rent-roll. How great is the guilt of Selfishness ; by him the commandments of God are, all set at naught; nay, standing on the mountain of his ill-gotten wealth, he takes the two tables of the law and breaks them to pieces, trampling the remnants beneath his feet. His heart is ossified, callous, hard as the nether mill-stone. The ministers of religion plead for help; he regards it not. The daughters of benevolence plead for ob- jects of charity ; all in vain. The weep- ing widow and the wailing orphan stand before him, begging only what will support life a day; ho spurns them from his presence. He has more than he needs or ever will need, yet, dog-in- the-manger like, he snarls and keeps it all. In the map of Palestine may be seen the Dead Sea. Several rivers pour their streams into the midst thereof, and among them the Jordan. Here they are all swalloAved up ; the Dead Sea gives nothing back but bitterness and dearth. It was formei-ly said that birds, in their passage over it, dropped down dead. Selfishness is a dead sea, receiving all, giving nothing, save misery, and want, and death. In the engraving, the house in the background looks ruined and desolate j Selfishness has been there. It is related of the locusts that " the noise they make, in browsing the plants and trees, may be heard at a distance, like an army plundering in secret. Wherever they march the verdure disappears from the country, like a curtain drawn aside. The trees and plants, despoiled of their leaves, make the hideous appearance of winter instantly succeed the bright scenes of spring; fire seems to follow their tracks." Selfishness may look behind him, if he will, and see in his rear the same marks of desolation. Selfishness is a great advocate for the protection of his own interests. He has become rich, yet he is not rich Godward ; he has mortgages, but he himself, alas ! is mortgaged to the devil, and, when the time expires, he will foreclose and take i^ossession. He has pledges enough on earth, but no pledge of a future in- heritance in heaven. And where, where is the hope of the wretch, though he hath gained, when God taketh away his soul ! " How shocking must thy summons be, O Death ! To him that is at ease in his possessions, Who, counting on long years of pleasures here. Is quite unfurnished for that world to come I' In that dread moment how the frantic soul Raves round the walls of her clay tenerrent; Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help, Butshrieks in vain I How wishfully she looks On all she's leaving, now no longer hers! A little longer, yet a little longer, O, might she stay, to wash away her stains, And fit her for her passage ! Mournful sight' Her very eyes weep blood; and c ery groan She heaves is big with horror. But the foe, Like a staunch murderer, steady to his pur- pose. Pursues her close, through every lane of life, Nor misses once the track, but presses on ; Till forced at last to the tremendous verge, At once she sinks to everlasting ruin." EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, 67 PSALM xxxvi : verse 7. MATTHEW, Chap, xxxiii: verse 20. PSALM xlvi: verse 7. 1 COEmTH'NS, Chap, iii: verse 16. GALATIANS, Chaj). ii: verse 20. EOMANS, Chap, xii : verse 5. EPHESIAKS, Chap, iii: verse 17. COLOSSIANS, Chap, iii: verse 4. THE IMPERIAL PASSEITGER. Fear not, jor I am with thee, evily for thou art with me. Ps. When the great Caesar, bent on high emprise Beheld the winds and waves against him rise, The sea and skies in wild commotion roll, To damp the ardor of his mighty soul ; But winds and waves in vain 'gainst him engage, And waste upon themselves their empty rage; He nothing fears, he deems himself a God. Gen. XXVI XXIII : 4. 24. -I will fear no And furious tempests but await his nod. Not so the mariners — in sore dismay They dare not venture from the sheltered bay, To whom the chief their craven souls to cheer, "Who tarries Caesar, need no danger fear." Awed into courage, soon they 're on the wave. And all the fury of the ocean brave. The above engraving represents Julius CsBsar in a violent storm. He is encour- aging the boatmen to pull away. Caesar and Pompey, at this time, were about to dispute the empire of the world. The legions of Pompey were at Mace- donia; those of Cffisar lay at Brundus- ium, on the other side of the river 12 Apsus. Cffisar, judging his presence to be absolutely necessary for the safety of his army, determined to cross the river, notwithstanding it was guarded by the ships of Pompey. A furious, tempest raged also at the same time. Depending upon his good fortune, ho disguised himself, and secured a small cs RELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES fishing-boat. His mind occupied with the importance of his mission, he thinks not of danger. He has had so many hairbreadth escapes on flood and field, that he deems himself under the im- mediate protection of the gods ; nay, that he himself possesses the power of con- trolling fortune. The boatmen think, however, very differently. Though ac- customed to danger, they will not put to sea in the present gale. Csesar, think- ing all would be lost, assumes a com- manding attitude, throws off his dis- guise, and, addressing the pilot, ex- claims. Quid times? Ccesarem vehis. "What do you fear? you cany Casar." The effect is electrical. Struck by his courageous bearing, the sailors, ashamed of their fears, immediately put to sea with the intrepid chieftain. They ex- ert themselves to the utmost, brave fearlessly the peltings of the storm, and land their noble passenger safely on the other side. The above instance of profane history may S€tt"ve to illustrate the presence of God with his people, and the confidence they should have in him. The pres- ence and consequent power of God ex- ists, of course, every-where. We can not tell where God is not. We see him in the embattled host that nightly shines in the blue vault of heaven; in the queen of night, as sailing through the sky, she gives to the shadowed earth a look of kindred affection. When rosy morn lifts up the curtain of dark- ness and gives to our view the glorious orb of day coming forth from his cham- bers, rejoicing as a strong man to run a race; in the vast mountain, towering to meet the skies; the immense ocean, rising in the greatness of its strength; the embowered forest, bending to the breeze; the deep blush of the verdant mead, the smiles of the luscious corn, and in the laughing flowers, we see the power and presence of the Omnipotent. The thunder proclaims him in the heav- ens, the woodland minstrels among the trees; the mountain torrent and the rippling brook bespeak his power; in- sects sporting in the sunbeams, and le- viathan in the depths of the sea, alike show forth his praise. Magnitude can not overpower him, minuteness escape him, or intricacy bewilder him. He guides and preserves all by his presence and jDower. " The rolling year Ts full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing spring Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love; Then comes thy glory in the summer months, With light and heat refulgent. Then thy suu Shoots full perfection through the swelling year. Thy bounty shines in autumn unconfined. And spreads a common feast for all that lives. In winter, awful Thou ! with clouds and storms Around thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest rolled, Majestic darkness! on the wliirlwind's wing, Riding sublime. Thou bid'et the world adore, And humblest nature with thy northern blast." The presence of God with his people is, however, manifested in a different manner. Nature is managed by subor- dinate agents, the Church by his im- mediate presence. Natural objects wax old and perish, as doth a garment; yea, the elements will melt with' fervent heat ; the earth also, and the works that are therein, shall be burned up; but of the Church it is declared that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it; and of Christ's kingdom, which is the Church, it is said. Thy kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and thy do- minion without end. Hence, to per- petuate the Church, the presence of God has been manifested in a peculiar manner. In the march of the Church, through the ages of time on toward eternity, how plainly has he shown his powerful presence. Is the world, through sin, covered with a flood of waters, as with a gar- ment? God himself superintends the building of an ark, for the salvation of his infant Church. JDoes famine threaten her with destruction? he opens to her EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 69 wants the granaries of Egypt. Does the sea oppose her when she would go and " sacrifice to the Lord her God ?" he di- vides for her a passage through the midst thereof, and she goes through dry sliod. Does she suffer liuuger in the desert? he unlocks the storehouse of heaven an 1 feeds her with angels' food. Is she thirsty ? the very rocks are made to yield streams of living water. By his presence her foes fall before her; Jordan s waves roll backward, and Canaan spreads for her repast its stores of milk and hone^^ *' Happy art thou, Israel ! Who is like unto thee, O people saved by the Lord, who is the sword of thy excellency and the shield of thy help?" Nor has the Church been less favored with the divine presence, since Jesus paid in full the price of her redemption, remodeled his temple, and adorned the sanctuary with the beauty of holiness. When we see the Savior in the storm, on the sea of Tiberias, chiding the fears of his disciples, and stilling the winds and the waves, we see a type, and a promise of his future presence with his people. Im- manuel, " God with us," this is his name. How full of consolation! with us in his own proper person. The government is still upon his shoulders. " He will not give his glory to another." He does not rule by proxy. He needs no " vicar " on the earth. Hia real presence is with his people. He is fulfilling his own gracious promise, " Lo, I am with you alway, even to the end of the world." The fact of being engaged in an important enterprise, and a consciousness that great re- sults will follow a eertain course of conduct, nerves up the soul to action, and enables it to do and suffer. When the boatmen knew who it was that said unto them, " Fear not," know- ing too that the fate of nations depended upon their conduct, they were inspired with energy and courage, and determined to sink or swim with Csesar. But behold a greater than Caesar is here. Jesus, the Almighty conqueror, says to liis people, ^^ Fear nn(, for lam with t/ou." In the furious tempest that sometimes meets them in the path of duty, when their hearts quail, and all appears ta be lost, his glorious prestuce shines amid the darkness. '^ Fear not," he exclaims, '^ you carry Jesus." The Church, emboldened at the sight, dismiss their fears, receive a new inspiration, and, in the strength of a living faith, respond, " Therefore will we not fear, though the earth be removed out of its place, and the mountains be cast into the depths of the sea for the Lord of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge." ^^ Fear not, you carry Jesus." Thou despond- ing one, fear not. Does not Christ dwell in thy heart by faith? Is not "Christ in you" the life of faith, the life of love, " the hope of glory ?" Is he not working in you both to will and to do? Then be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might. Fear not, he is thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward. Of Cyrus it is said that he knew his soldiers, every one by name; but by the Captain of your salvation the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Unbelief dims the eye so that it can not see Jesus. Faith opens it, and the glorious presence of the Savior is revealed. Where the king is, there also is the court; and where the Savior is, there also is his court. His attendants are all there. Power, majesty, riches, and glory encircle his throne. Stormy winds, lightning and thunder, are ministers of his that do his pleasure. God is with his people; he is their covenant God. Hence all his attributes are employed for their good. He cares for them. As a father pitieth his children, so he pities them that fear him. He has purchased them by "his own blood." They are his "peculiar treasure," " the lot of his inheritance." There- fore no weapon that is formed against them can prosper. To banish distrust forever from their hearts, he pledges himself never to leave them, never to forsake them. When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee. And through the rivers they shall not overflew thee; When thou walkest through the fire thou shaft not be burned. Neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Is- rael, Thy Savioe. 70 KELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. PSALM xviii : verse 6. JOB, Chap, xiii; verse 15. PSALM Ixxi: verse 1. 2 KINGS, Chap, vii : verse 4. MARK, Chap, v: verses 27, 28. MARK, Chap, ix: verse 24. HEBREWS, Chap, xi : verse 8. PSALM xxxvii : verse 5. I vnll trust in thee, unto you. Matt, ix VENTURING BY FAITH. 3. According to your Faith he it Ps. LVI 29. Behold the flames in all their fury roll, Raging and spreading, spurning all control; Upward they shoot in many a gleaming spire, And then rush downward in a flood of fire. With fiercer heat the burning columns glow, And soon the building totters to and fro. But whence that scream that rings upon our ears? In the high casement see. a child appears! With outstretched arms, imploring for relief — The crackling timbers only mock his grief. " 0, Father, save!" in piteous tones he cries; At length his fiither hears him and replies, " Fly to my arms, my son, without delay — Fly ere the flames devour their helpless prey." Death hastes behind, Hope beckons from before; He ventures freely, and his danger s o'er. " The mu\ of an awakened sinner," says Dr. Coke, " before he ventures on Christ for salvation, may be compared to a person who is in some of the up- per stories of his house when he learns that it has taken fire, and that all its nether parts are so far involved in flame as to cut off his retreat." The engrav- ing shows a young person, who has been roused from his midnight slum- EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, 71 bers by the raging flames which burst into the place where he was reposing, or perhaps he was awakened by the voice of some friend, who raised a warn- ing cry from without. The child, thor- oughly awakened, sees that if he stays where he is, he will perish in the flames ; he hears the voice of his father ; he flies to the window; he sees the out- stretched arms ; he is invited to leap or cast himself from the burning house; the attempt seems perilous indeed, but, having faith in the word of his father, he takes the perilous leap ; he ventures all; he falls into the hands of his father, unharmed ; he is saved from death. This is a good illustration of the act of justifying faith. The child in the burning house, perhaps, made several efforts to escape from the approaching ruin; he attempts to gain the door, but finding the flames increase upon him, he is obliged to give up his hope of es- caping this way, and to ascend the stairs before the pursuing fire. His friends without, who know his condition and danger (particularly his father), entreat liim to cast himself from the upper window, as the only means by which his life can be preserved. The child hears the earnest entreat- ies of his friends, hesitates, attempts, retires, approaches the window, calcu- lates upon the fearful height, and dreads to make the eff'ort. His understanding IB convinced that the fire will soon over- take and destroy him, yet, while the danger appears somewhat remote, he strangely lingers, possibly thinking there may be some other way to escape besides casting himself from the win- dow. His friends again encourage him to venture fyom the window, assuring him that ihaj have provided for his safety by spreading on the ground the softest materials, to break the violence of his fall. Full of hesitation, he asks for sensible evidence. They desire him to (ook; he makes an eff'ort, but the dark- ness of the night, and the injury his sight has sustained, only permit him to view the object of his wishes obscurely and indistinctly. Belief and doubt con- tend for the empire of his mind, and by keeping it in an equipoise, prevent it from making any decisive choice. Thus far the situation of the child resembles that of the soul who feels his need of salvation. The understand- ings of both are enlightened, the judg- ments of both are convinced by the force of evidence ; they appear to as- sent to the truths which are proposed for their belief, and still neither of them has escaped to the place of safety, or city of refuge, which lies before him. Both, however, have found the way to escape the impending ruin ; and to him who thus spiritually seeks after Christ, it may be said. Thou art not far from the kingdom of God. But still one thing is lacking; that is, to venture on the Savior for salvation. Thus far, in the allegory, the child has made no effectual eff'ort to escape from within the burning walls. While lingering in his room in a state of in- decision, agonizing for deliverance, with- out using the means of obtaining it, feeling a measure of confidence in his friends below, but not enough to ven- tui'e, the flames burst into his apart- ment and scorch him in his last retreat. Alarmed at the immediate prospect of death, he concludes, If I remain here I shall surely die, and if I cast myself down from the building I shall but die. Fully impressed with this truth, he once more repairs to the window. He paj's more attention to the call of his friends, particularly to that of his father ; the difficulty now appears some- what less, and the prospect of safety greater, than what he before imagined. Encouraged by these favorable appear- ances, as well as driven by terror, he commits his soul to God^-he casts him- self into the arms of his father below. In a moment, in the twinkling of an 72 EiLLIGIOtrS ALLEGOEIES. eye, he falls ! He is caught and embraced by his father; he finds every thing prepared for his reception, as he had been promised, and he now feels himself in a state of safety. With tears of grateful joy, and a heart overflowing with thankfulness for his deliverance, he gives glory to God, and finds his bosom filled with peace. This is the case of every soul who, by faith, ventures his all on Christ. But who can find words to express all that is conveyed by this einiile? Every one who has cast himself into the arms of his heavenly Father, through the atoning sacrifice, can feel it, but adequate ex- pressions are not to be found. Human lan- guage is too poor to unfold, in all their branches, the things of God, and we are often under the necessity of resorting to such expedients m order to find a medium to communicate our thoughts. We see by the allegory that no one is in a state of safety till they have actually ventured on Christ for salvation. The soul may be convinced that there is no other way of sal- vation, but by venturing on Christ, but unless it acts and puts forth an eflTort there is no sal- vation. The youth in the burning house may be convinced he must leave it if he would save his life, but he may, perhaps, think there is no immediate danger if he stays in the house a little longer; it will take some time, he thinks, for the fire to consume the foundation on which the floor of his apartment rests. The very reverse of this may be true. The fire has almost reached him, and he knows it not; all that supports the platform on which he fitands is well-nigh consumed, and he may be precipitated in a moment into the burning flames below. So the soul may be rationally convinced that if it remains in its present state it must be forever lost; yet, thinking that there is time enough yet to attend to the subject of the soul's salvation in earnest, and wishing to remain in its present state a little longer, " a little more sleep, and a little more slumber, and folding of the arms to sleep, ' sudden de- struction may come in a moment; the cords of life may be snapped asunder, without a moment's warning, and sink into the flaming billows to rise no mor».. We will suppose that the youth in the burn- ing house, instead of trying to get out of it as soon as possible, should stop to ascertain bj* what means the house took fire — who set it on fire, this man or the other, or whether it took fire accidentally or not — would not every spec- tator call him a fool for troubling himself about such questions while his life was in such dai , ger? Would not the cry be, Escape for thy life; tarry not; look not behind thee; leave the burning house instantly! Equally foolish would that soul be who is convinced of hia guilt and danger, instead of flying to Christ foi- salvation, should spend its time in trying to find out the reason why sin was suffered to lay waste the works of God; could it not have been prevented, and many other subjects of the like kind, equally unfathomable by the hu- man mind. It must be observed that the faith exercised by the youth in the burning house, caused him to act, and venture his life on the issue. Perhaps he might reason, that his being at such a distance from his father and his friends, who stood on the ground below, it would be impossible for them to save him from being dashed to pieces should he cast himself down; there may be a strong conflict between belief and unbelief, but genuine faith will conquer. The soul that is truly and savingly in earnest about its salvation, not only believes, in a general manner, that the Bible is the voice of God to man, but his belief must induce him to hearken to that voice, and consider its threatenings as denounced against his dis- obedience; he must, in order to obtain salva- tion, fly to Christ, cast himself upon his mercy, and claim the promises which are made to the soul that puts its trust in his mercy and power. The youth in the burning house discovers that there are no back stairs by which he can reach a place of safety, for they are already entirely destroyed by the fire, or else nothing but a "burning mass, so that escape by them is utterly impossible. In like manner, the truly awakened soul will see ihat there is no other way of escape but to leave the state oi sin and death, as there can be no salvation while remaining in it. But if tne soul will go for- ward ami cast itself into the everlasting arms of love and compassion, he who can rot lie promises salvation. 'j. w. b. EELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES, t o PEOYEllBS, Chap, iv: verse 18. PSALM xvi: verse 11. PROVERBS, Chap, ii: verses 8, 9. PSALM xvii: rerse 5. PSALM cxlvi : verse 9. PROVERBS, Chap, iv: verse 19. PSALM Ixxiii: verse 18. 1 SAMUEL, Chap, ii: verse 9. THE PATH OF LIFE A5TD WAY OF DEATH. Broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there he that go in thereat Narrow is the ivay which leadeth unto life^ and few there be that find it. Matt, vii : 13, 14 Thk Path of Life, and Death's frequented way, Who can describe? what pencil can portray? The Way of Death is broad, with downward slide. Easy and pleasant to man's lust and pride; 'Tis thronged with multitudes who glide along With gold, and drink, and dance, and wanton song: Not these alone, but some of decent mien, "Harmless" and *' useless" on the way are seen; In ruin's gulf it ends. Seel rising there, Thick clouds of blackness, and of dark despair. The Path of life lifts up its narrow breadth. High o'er *he realms of darkness and of death; Sky-rising, still, laborious and straight, Leading directly up to heaven's gate; Tis wondrous strange, and yet, alas! 'tis true, The Path of Life is traveled but by few. Though ending where the shades of night ne'er fall. But one eternal Light encircles all. Here is depicted the path of life and the way of death. The way of death is exceeding broad, and on an inclined plane. It has a downward tendency ; it is occupied by a vast multitude. Some are seen throwing; themselves off the way headlonjr; others are bearing aloft the terrible banners of war. They 74 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. are elated with victory. Here the man of pleasure revels in delight. The drunkard is dancing with wild deliri- ous joy, and the miser groans beneath his bags of gold. There are, however, some sober, respectable people on the way. These appear to look grave and thoughtful. The way ends, you per- ceive, in total darkness. Thick clouds of curling blackness, rising from a pit or gulf, cover the extremity of the way. The travelers enter the dismal shades, and we see them no more. From the way of death you see an- other way, or path, rather, stretching up, as it were, into the clouds. This is called the path of life. It is extremely narrow. It is, moreover, difficult, on account of its upward tendency. Few persons are seen walking on it; these are scattered here and there. This path appears to end well. We can see where it does end. A beautiful palace oj>ens its golden gates to receive the wearied travelers. From its opened portals bursts forth a dazzling light that illumi- nates the pathway beneath. By the way of death is signified the way of sin that leads to death eternal. '■ The wages of sin is death." Its down- ivard tendency denotes that it is much easier to go wrong than to go right. The way of sin is easy and jDleasant to man's corrupt nature. He delights in it after the inner man. Were it not so, surely so many in all ages would not be found walking therein. The 'Creator himself gives us the reason. *' The thouichts of the imacrinations of his heart are evil, only evil, and that continually." Hence man follows the bent of his inclination. He goes with the stream, " eveiyone in his own way." To do otherwise would require self-de- nial, and vigorous, persevering effort. In the engraving, some are seen cast- ing themselves off the way. By this is meant, not that sinners grow tired of the way of sin exactly', but that they are tired of themselves ; they are tired of life. Their substance is expended in gambling and profligacy. The means of indulging their depraved appetite no longer exists; hence they commit sui- cide, plunge into eternity, and add to the number of those who die without hope; for, " except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." Others, by their excesses in riotous living and debauch- eries, break down their constitution and destroy life, and thus perish with those who "live out not half their days." Warriors are also in the way of death, raising to the breeze the flag of triumph. These denote the men "who delight in war" — who, for wealth and glory, "sink, burn, and destroy," and slaughter their fellow-creatures. These violate the law of Jehovah, "Thou shalt not kill." Drunkards, too, are in this way, ca- rousing with strong drink, dancing with maniac madness, and yet, on the way to ruin, drowning the cares of time, but planting thorns for eternity. These belong to the class of whom it is said, " Such shall not inherit the kingdom of God." The one with the bag of gold rejDresents that very large class who worship Mammon on the earth ; who never think even of heaven, except when they remember that it is paved Avith gold. These are idolaters, the meanest of the Devil's drudges, the vilest of the slaves of sin. Others en- joy the pleasures of sin, but he sweats and groans beneath his load; he takes ]:»lace with the breakers of God's law. •' Thou shalt have no other gods before me." Some pass the time in wanton dal- liance; these designate the adulterer, fornicator, and the impure. These tako pleasure in unrighteousness, give up their affections to the control of lust, indulge in mere animal delights, imbrute their manhood, quench their intellect, and barter the glories of heaven for a "portion in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone; thi§ is the second death." . Others of staid and re- EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 75 spectablc appearance are in this "way — men of dignity and of consequence; men of morals and philosophy, all hon- orable men; men who are harmless in their generation, honest in their deal- ings. They "render to Cassar the things which are Caesar's," but, alas for them ! they do not "render unto God the things which arc God's." One thing only is wanting; "One thing thou lackest." The heart is unsurrendered ; hence there is no repentance, no living faith, no homage, no love, no obedience, no sal- vation. These, alas! all take rank with the "unprofitable servant," who was cast into outer darkness, where there is weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth. But time would fail to describe the various characters that throng the way of death. The gross sensualist, the haughty Pharisee, and the specious hypocrite are all here. But is it pos- sible, some one may say, that so many are in the way to eternal death? God himself has answered the question; we have heard his voice. It is not only true that they are going, but that they go of their own accord. The sinner is threatened, admonished, and warned, and yet he goes on. He is persuaded, entreated, and invited to turn and live, and yet ho goes on. If you see a man traveling a road that you know to be frequented with robbers, you tell him of his danger; he persists in going on; the robbers strip him and leave him for dead; who is to blame? The sinner is warned of his danger, and yet ho persists in sin. Numbers control not the sword of Justice. The antedi- luvians were faithfully warned ; they went on, and perished in the flood. The men of Sodom were warned; they per- sisted, and perished in the rain of tire. The Jews were warned also, even b}' the Son of God, and yet they went on in rebellion, until of their city not one stone was left standing upon another, and themselves scattered and peeled among the nations. The sinner neglects a great salvation. Neglecting only to get into the ark will exjiose him to the flood of fire. Neg- lecting salvation, he contemns the "love of God." Ho "tramples upon the blood of the covenant." He does "despite to the Spirit of grace." How shall he escape if he neglects so great salvation? "These shall go away into everlasting punishment." By the path of life is designated the path of holiness, that leads to life eter- nal. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." It is narrow and steep; it requires care and eff'ort. The pilgrim must deny himself, take up his cross daily, and watch unto prayer. It is difficult only to flesh and blood; to the carnal mind, not to the spiritual ; to the unregenerate, not to him that is born again. To the righteous its ways are ways of pleasantness, and all its paths are paths of peace. Narrow is the way that leads to life, and few there are who find it. Fewer still endure to to the end thereof. The few were once in the way of death. They were among the many that were called. They obc^'cd the heavenlj^call, forsook the broad way, and entered upon the path of life. The path of life ends well; God de- lights in holiness. He did not overlook Noah in the overflowing of the ungodly, nor Lot in Sodom. The faithful few are God's jcAvels ; his hidden ones, while tribulation and "anguish are assigned to the disobedient." The patient con- tinuance of the righteous in well-doing "will be rewarded with glory, and hon- or, and immortality;" for the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zionwithsongsandeverlasting joy upon their heads. They shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. 76 RELIGIOUS ALLEGORIES HEBREWS, Chap, i: verse 11. JOB, . Chap, xxxiv: verse 15. HEBREWS, Chap, iii: verses 7, 8. ACTS, Chap, xvii: verse 30. ^ ROMAN'S, Chap, x: verse 13. MATTHEW, Chap, xxiv: verse 42. ACTS, Chap, i : verse .7. 2 PETER, Chap, iii : verse 10. PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE. The world passeth away, salvation. 2 Cor. vi : 2. James iv: 14. 1 John II: 17. Now is the day of — Ye know not lahat shall be on the morrow. Look on the Past. Behold! wide-scattered round, Time's fragments — every-where they strew the ground; The Dead are there — once blooming, young, and gay, 'Mid putrefaction, lo! they waste away. The aged oak, once tall, and strong, and green, Decayed and withered in the past is seen; The lordly mansion, once the owner's trust. Its glory gone, see crumbling into dust. E'en Egypt's boast, the pyramids of yore, Shall fall to ruin, and be known no more. The Past is gone; the Future black as night. By clouds lies hidden from all mortal sight; The Present's here — see there with angel brow, AVisdom lifts up her voice of mercy. Now — Now — the accepted time, the gracious day, When man repentant, wipes his stains away; Inspires new life, through the atoning blood, And writes his name among the sons of God. Tliis picture is emblematical of the Past, Future, and Present, as these di- visions of time appear to us who are now on the stage of human life. Be- hold the Past! See there the fragments that time has left behind ! There is the burying-place, filled with the records of the past. What a volume of biog- EELIGIOTJS ALLEGOEIES, 77 raphy is the grave-yard! There they lay, the blooming and the beautiful, the strong and the active, all moldering into dust. The laughing eye, the noble brow, the dimpled cheek, the teeth of pearl, the musical tongue, the brain creative, and the cunning hand — all, all are silent in the tomb, and melting into earth. There, too, is the oak, that once towered in strength and beauty, now withered and decayed. Once it gave shelter to the beasts of the field — the fowls of the air lodged in its branches; now it needs a prop to prevent its fall- ing to the ground. The splendid mansion is seen crum- bling into dust. Architecture, and sculp- ture, and painting had bestowed upon it their highest efforts; the artist looked with pride upon it, the owner delighted in it. But it is gone; its glory has de- parted; it is among the things that have been. In the distance are seen the huge forms of the pyramids — Egypt's re- nown and the wonder of the world — memorials of the past, telling us of the folly, cruelty, despotism, and ambition of kings — telling us, too, doubtless, of the sweat, and groans, and tears, and blood of thousands of the men like our- selves, who slaved and labored to build these gigantic monuments; but these, also, will pass away — if not before, they must when the earth shall reel to and fro, and totter like a drunken man. Then, at least, all physical reminis- cences of the past, sinking into the deep sea of oblivion will be recognized no more. The Future is represented by clouds of darkness that rise upon the path, and shut out from mortal vision all prospect of what is before. Religion, the daughter of the skies, who de- scended from heaven, and who is has- tening back again to her blest abode, is seen on the circular path of time. It is time Present, wherever she ap- pears. She holds in her hand a scroll; see its burden ! She is in earnest. She looks benignly and compassionately as she passes by; she makes known to man his highest good. Above her head is seen a crown of glory ; this she prom- ises to all who will obey her voice, and improve the present time. The past is gone — the castles, the mansions, the green oak, and the tower, and let them go! The monuments of the pride, and ambition, and wicked- ness of kings and conquerors, are crum- bling into dust, and let them crumble! The glory, splendor, and renown of heroes, are fast fading away, and let them fade. But the dead shall live again; they that sleep in the dust shall awake ; that which is sown in dishonor shall be raised in glory. The past is gone. The time once lost, is lost forever. Past opportunities for doing good, and for getting good are gone, and gone forever. 'T is great- ly wise to talk with our past hours, and ask them what rej)ort they bore to heaven." Happy he, " Whose work is done; who triumphs in the past; Whose yesterdays look backward with a smile; Nor like the Parthian wound him as they fly That common but opprobrious lot. Past hours If not by guilt, yet wound us by their flight, If folly bounds our prospect by the grave." Yet there is a sense in which the past never dies. It haunts us like the ghost of the murdered; it is ever present, an angel of light, casting upon us a look of heavenly love, or a demon of dark- ness, scowling with malignity and hate. Thy memory will exist forever; the re- membrance of past actions will, there- fore, live forever. " O, for yesterdays to come!" The Future is concea}ed ; clouds and darkness hide i't from our view. We know not what a day may bring forth, nor what an hoiir; we know, however, that death is there, and after death the judgment, and after the judgment the ■8 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. issues thereof— " JEternal life,'' or ^'Eter- nal death." But this is all we know, and this is enough, if we are wise. How much of joy or sorrow there may- be for us in the future we know not; whether our path will be strewed with roses or with thorns we can not tell — most likely they will be mixed. What opportunities for improvement in re- ligious duties and privileges, or what hindrances we may have, we know not; how much of life, who can tell? A man may plant, and build, and lay up goods for many years, and yet to-day may be his last day — to-night his soul may be required of him. If, then, the past is gone, and if the future may never come to us in life, it behooves us to improve the present. God, in his mercy, offers salvation now. Now is the accepted time! now is the day of salvation! What is it that is offered? Salvation. Thou canst not do without salvation ; without it thou art lost and lost forever! Seize thou, O seize the angel as she passes, nor suffer her to go until she bless thee ! The present time, how important! It includes the vast concerns of the eter- nal state. Destroy it not; there is a blessing in it. "Throw years away! throw empires, and be blameless!" The •present seize — * * * "0 what heaps of slain Cry out for vengeance on us! Time destroyed, Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt; Time flies — death rages — knells call — heaven invites — Hell threatens — all exerts; in effort all; More than creation labors! — labors more! Man sleeps, and man alone; and man for whom All else is in alarm ; mail the sole cause Of this surrounding storm ; and yet he sleeps, As the storm rocked to rest" Now is the accepted time ! God will accept thee now; he nowhere promises to accept thee to-morrow. Think, O think of thy soul and its value; think of Jehovah and his love; think of Christ and his precious blood; think of heaven and its eternal blessedness ; of hell and its terrible torments ! Upon thy pres- ent conduct rests thy eternal destiny. What art thou sowing ? What art thou working? What art thou treasuring up? Let conscience answer. Think of the past and all its guilt — of the future and its great uncertainty — of the pres- ent as thine. To-morrow may be too late. Now is the day of salvation ; now thou mayest wash away thy sins, call- ing upon the name of the Lord, inspire a new life, rejoice in glorious hope, en- roll your name among the children of God, and become a glorious citizen of immortality in heaven. Improve the present. See ! look on that beach ; there is a boat high and dry, with a man in it; he is asleep. The ship to which he belongs is in the offing ; she will sail tlie next tide. The tide rises, the man sleeps on; the tide ebbs, he awakes; the water is gone, the ship is gone, and he is left to perish on a de- solate island. There is a tide in man's spiritual affairs, which, when taken at the rise, leads on to heaven ; omitted, he may be left to perish. My spirit, saith the Lord, shall not always strive with man. Now is the accepted time. Behold that railroad car; it has just started. Look again; there is a person with his hands upraised, exclaiming, "Alas, too late!" He is left behind; his friends are all on board, and he is not with them. Great is his grief Man is a stranger here. God sends the chariot of his love to bear him home. Again and again it comes; it is here now. O sinner, step on board ! The Savior is there; he invites thee to leave thy sins and sinful companions, and get on board of the heavenly car — the car of mercy. It is ready to start ; all things are now ready; some of thy friends are there. Hesitate not, delay not, or, like the passenger, thou mayest find thyself, in a more mournful sense, '■'■too late,'" and "a moment you may wish when worlds want wealth to buy." EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 79 PSALM cxxxix : verses 7-10. PSALM xcvii : verse 2. eoma:n"s, Chap, xi: verse 33. EPHESIANS, Chap, v: verse 16. 2 PETER, Chap, iii: verse 8. DEUTEEON'Y, Chap, xxxiii: verse 27. PROVIDEIlTCE, TIME, ETERNITY. For of hiniy and through him, and to him are all things. Rom. XI: 36. Time is short. 1 Cor. vii : 29. Which is, and lohich icas, and which is to come. Rev. i : 8. tTpoN a narrow isle, 'mid waters vast, By stress of tide the voyagers are cast; Beneath around, a dark and boundless sea; Above, thick clouds wrap all in mystery. The Ocean wears the shore on every side, As Time decreases 'neath the Eternal tide. Yet one — deluded man! strives much to reach The shells and pebbles on the crumbling beach ; The waves dash on — another pondering stands, And sees destruction come with folded hands. Not so the third — he turns his longing eyes, And views a chain descending fiom the skies; The Providential chain with links of love. Watched by an eye that never sleeps above; He grasps the chain — from all his fears it saves, While his companions perish 'neath the waves. In th e engraving is seen a represen- tation of the All-seeing Eye. It is placed above every thing else, to show that the eyeof Grod's providence watches over all creation, taking notice of everj event throughout all time and space. Though to human vision there may be clouds and darkness about the throne of the Eternal, yet to his all-seeing eye darkness is as noonday. All things are 80 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES, before him, and nothing is too minute for his inspection. He bees the rise and fall of empires, and with equal atten- tion sees the sparrow fall to the ground, for, in a certain sense, nothing is great or small before him. Throughout all time and space the eye of Providence penetrates ; yea, more, it reaches further; eternity itself, to the human mind dark, fathomless, boundless, endless, is pene- trated and comprehended. A chain is seen descending from above, of which we can neither see the begin- ning or the ending; but; as far as we can discover, is but a small part of a might}^ whole. It is true a man may see a few of the links of the chain be- fore him, their connection with each other, but how far they may extend above or below his vision he has no knowledge. This shows us that the great chain of God's providential dis- pensations in the universe is but par- tially seen or comprehended. It is true, while on these mortal shores, we may see a few of the connecting links of this chain, but to what heights it reaches or to what depths it penetrates we have no adequate conception. " In what manner, indeed," says a celebrated writer, "providence inter- poses in human affairs, by what means it influences the thoughts and counsels of men, and, notwithstanding the in- fluence it exerts, leaves to them the freedom of choice, are subjects of a dark and mysterious nature, and which have given occasion to many an intri- cate controversy. Let us remember that the manner in which God influ- ences the motion of all the heavenly bodies, the nature of that secret power by which he is ever directing the sun and the moon, the planets, stars, and comets in their course through the heavens, while they appear to move themselves in a free course, are matters no less inexplicable to us than the man- ner in which he influences the counsels of men. But though the mode of divine operation remains unknown, the fact of an overruling influence is equally certain in the moral as it is in the natural world. " In cases where the fact is clearly authenticated, we are not ai liberty to call its truth in question merely because we understand not the manner in which it is brought about. Nothing can bo more clear, from the testimony of Scrip- ture, than that God takes part in all that happens anaong mankind, direct- ing and overruling the whole course of events, so as to make every one of them answer the designs of his wise and righteous government. " We can not, indeed, conceive God acting as the governor of the world at all, unless his government were to ex- tend to all the events that can happen. It is upon the supposition of a particu- lar providence that our worship and prayers to him are founded. All his perfections would be utterly insignifi- cant to us, if they were not exercised, on every occasion, according as the cir- cumstances of his creatures required. The Almighty would then be no more than an unconcerned spectator of the behavior of his subjects, regarding the obedient and rebellious with an equal eye." In the lower part of the engraving is seen a little spot of earth in the vast ocean by which it is surrounded, on which is seen three persons. This small place may represent Time, which has arisen out of the eternity of the past. Though now visible, it is destined soon to sink into oblivion in the midst of the mighty waters. One of the figures on this little spot of time is seen very busy in collecting the little pebbles or par- ticles of shining dust around him. How foolish this, when he must know that the rolling tide will soon overflow all around him. Equally foolish is he who, in this transitory life, instead of look- ing upward and using the means Prov- idence has placed within his reach for EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES 81 his escape from overflowing destruction, spends his precious moments in collect- ing the little baubles and toys of earth. On the left is seen one who appears to be gravely philosophizing upon the scene he beholds around him. He re- alizes that he is standing on a speck of earth, in the midst of a mighty ocean, of which he can neither see the bottom or the shore. He looks backward, all is dark to his vision ; he looks around him, all is mysterious and incompre- hensible ; forward, all, all is thick dark- ness. He is sensible that the tide of death will soon overflow him and all with whom he is connected; but will eternal oblivion and forgetfulness be his portion? Pei'haps he thinks so; but at times the immortal spirit will stir within him and " startle back " at the thought of annihilation. Ah, poor fool! he turns his back and will not look at the bright chain of God's providence, which so manifestly appears. Perhaps he may try to persuade himself that the chain hangs there by chance. He has been told that earth and heaven are connected by it. He professes to see no necessary connection ; he can not see its beginning, how it is supported on high. He has heard that by it man can be elevated to a heavenly life. This may appear foolishness to him. Per- haps he may think that if man were destined to live hereafter, he would not have been placed on these mortal shores ; or if immortal, it will be in some other mode than that pointed out in the Bible. He is wise in his own conceit. He turns himself from God's method of salvation, refuses to look upward, continues to reason "in endless mazes lost," will not jay hold of the only hope set before him; he "wonders and perishes" in the overflowing of the mighty waters. One of the per>^ons on the little island is seen with his eyes turned upward; his hands are uplifted in thankfulness and adoration. He beholds the bright p.hain of God's providential mercy : he lays hold of the only hope set before him. It is true he can see but a few of the connecting links of the golden chain above, but he fully believes that it is connected with, and sustained by, an Almighty Power above. He has oc- casional glimpses of the All-seeing Eye; he feels that he is under its supervision. He feels himself encircled, upheld, and sustained by infinite power and love, and rejoices that all things are under the control of a kind Providence. It is true, the Christian may see clouds and darkness above, around, and below him. He may not know why sin, and consequently mis- ery, is suffered to exist in the universe of God. He may not know why he is placed here in the circumstances by which he is surrounded. He weeps often ; it may be to see how sin has laid waste the works of God, how the wicked often triumph and tlie good are crushed into the dust. He may not know the beginning oi origin of God's providential dealings, how fai they reach into this or other worlds. But not' withstanding the Christian may not be able to fathom these and many other subjects, yet he confides in the Almighty power above. He lays hold of salvation ; he is elevated to the regions of eternal light and glory, while his unbelieving companions perish amid the dark rolling waters of the ocean. The ocean has sometimes been considered ae an emblem of eternity, on account of its vast extent, its fathomless depths, and its appearance to human vision, oftentimes, as without a bottom, or shore. "Eternity," says one, " with respect to God, is a duration without beginning or end. With regard to created beings, it is a duration that has a beginning, but will never have an end. It is a duration that excludes all number and computation ; days, months, and years, yea, and ages, are lost in it like drops in the ocean. Millions of millions of years, as many years as there are sands on the seashore or particles of dust in the globe of the earth, and these multi- plied to the highest reach of number, all these are nothing to eternity. They do not bear tlie imagmable proportion to it, for these will come to an end as certainly as a day; but eternity will never, never, never come to an end ! It i8 a time without an end ! it is an ocean without a shore ! Alas, wliat shall I say of it ! it is an infinite, unknown something, that neither hu man thought can grasf nor human language describe 1" J. 'W. B. 82 EELIGIOtJS ALLEGOEIES. DANIEL, Chap, vii: verse 27. ISAIAH, Chap. XXXV : verse 10. 2 PETEK, Chap, iii : verse 13. ISAIAH, Chap, xi : verse 9. EEVELATION„ Chap. XX : verse 4. ISAIAH, Chap, ii: verse 2. DANIEL, Chap, ii: verse 4-1. EEYELATION, Chap, xi: verse 15. THE TRIUMPH OF CHRISTIANITY. Alleluia ! for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. Rev. xix : 6. 'Ti3 coitig! 'tig cornel The long-expected day, When sin no longer o'er the earth bears sway; But Truth, ti-iumphant, sheds its mellow light, And all below is clear, and pure, and bright. See Christianity! the gift of Grace! Receives in form the homage of our race; Europa fair, her princely tribute brings, A grateful oifering to the King of kings; Asia I'ejects the Shasters and the Sword, Throws by the Koran and receives the Word; Lo! Afric breaks her chains of crime and blood. And lowly bending, lifts her hands to God. No more she wages wars for white man's gold — No more she mourns her children bought and sold. See, too, America, with pipe of peace ! Comes now to sue for love and heavenly grace; The tomahawk, and bow, and cruel knife. To exchange for records of eternal life: 'Tiscomel 'tis come! the long-expected day ! Lo ! God has triumphed, Truth divine bears sway; Loud alleluias heavenly angels sing. For earth, renewed with joy, receives her king. The engraving represents Christian- ity receiving the homage of the "world. In her right hand she holds the crown of immortality; in her left, the "Word of God. Her looks and bearing hespeak grace, dignity, majesty, empire, triumph, and matchless love. Behold! Europe brings her crown — emblem of power — • and lays it meekly at the feet of Chris- tianity. Asia, represented by a follower EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. 83 of Mahomet, laying aside the cimeter and the Koran, receives with humble adoration, instead tliereof, the revela- tions of G-od's Word. Africa is repre- sented by a figure in a kneeling pos- ture ; she has broken off her chains, and is lifting her hands to heaven. Amefica is represented by an Indian ; he holds in his hand the calumet, or pipe of peace; he has laid aside the murderous tomahawk, the bow that sprang the ar- row of death, and the scalping-knife. He buries the hatchet forever, and offei'S the emblem of peace. The above is a representation of the fiinal triumph of Christianity over the world, a day long expected by the faith- ful, even from the time of the first prom- ise, "He shall bruise thy head." That this earth, this blood-stained earth, should become the scene of triumph, has ever been the hope of the right- eous; that here, where was the first defeat, renewed conflict, and continiied struggle, here would be, and ought to be, the arena of victory. Exulting in this hope, the prophet touched the sacred harp of prophesy, and sang of " the sufferings of Christ, and of the glory that should follow," when he would see of the travail of his soul and be satisfied. In this hope Israel's king prayed, " that thy way may be known upon the earth, and thy saving health among all nations." Inspired by this hope, martyrs have kissed the stake, embraced the flames, and gone triumph- antly home to God; yea, the general assembly of the Church of the first- born — the whole body of the faithful upon earth — in this hope rejoicing, have sent up tlieir prayers continually, which, like intercessory angels, sur- rounding the throne of the Eternal, have prayed, O " let thy kingdom come." And now it has come. Europe is the Lord's ; she consecrates to God her do- minion ; her kings and queens are sub- ject to Messiah, and labor to promote the best interests of their people. Her people are all righteous; her philoso- phers having proved all things, hold fast now that which is good; her rich men dep'osit their wealth in the bank of heaven; her statesmen, studying the politics of both worlds, regard also the interests of both ; the poor are raised to competency, to knowledge and to virtue, and consequent happiness. Her arts and sciences are consecrated to God ; her shijDS of war now sail in the service of the prince of peace; ships of commerce are floating Bethels. The songs of Jesus have succeeded to the songs of Satan, and blasphemies are turned to praise. "The abundance of the sea is con- verted to God;" railroads, steamboats, and telegraphs are all employed in pro- moting God's glory,, and in benefiting mankind. The Anglo-American race and others partake of this triumph; they have labored for it ; they rejoice in it, and say, Lo ! this is our God! we have waited for him, we will rejoice in his salvation. Asia, too, is the Lord's; here, where the conflict first began with sin and death, here the victory is gained. The lion of the tribe of Judah has prevailed; the inhabitants, so long enslaved by despotic creeds, now exercise faith in the Lord Jesus Christ; so long op- pressed by systems of superstition and l3lood, now rejoice under the mild yoke of the Savior; the Koran and Shasters are exchanged for the Bible, Jvggernaxit for Calvary, Kalee for Jesus, Mahomet for God. Herei now is seen "China without its wall of selfishness, India without its castes, and earth without its curse." The people are elevated, the nations are united, Jehovah is their King. Africa throws off her load, and breaivs her chains and comes to Jesus; so long crushed and degraded, she has at length arisen ; she takes her place again with the nations of the earth, with the re- 84 EELIGIOUS ALLEGOEIES. deemed. Ignorance, superstition, and slavery are now no more. Her warfare is past, her mourning is o'er, her long captivity is at an end. Jehovah has triumphed, his children are free. "No more Coomassie offers human blood, But takes for sacrifice the Lamb of God, And on Siberia's long-contested ground, A living army of tlie cross is found. The gospel tree, so ample and so pure, Bears precious fruit; its leaves the nation's cure: Its healing. influence to I.oango spreads; Angola feels it, and health's blossoms sheds, And where Cimbebas no fresh water brings, Life s fountains bubble in a thousand springs. Korana's shepherds now Christ s flock become, And Bosheman's Kraals are changed to home, sweet home. Good Hope has added Faith and humble Love; The Cross has triumphed! praise to God above.'' America, the whole of the western world, rejoices in the light of the glori- ous Sun of Righteousness; the islands of the sea Avait for Jehovah's law; the Indian tribes obey his word, and hail .him their Almighty Lord. The tom- ahawk and scalping-knife, and other weapons of war and blood, are ex- changed for the olive-branch; for the war-whoop is now heard the sound of the "church-going bell," greeting the Sabbath morning; the disciple of the Pope has become the disciple of Jesus, and, laying aside all superstition, ho worships the Lord his God, and him only does he serve. The dispersed of the seed of Abraham, the "scattered and peeled" among the nations, have looked upon him " they pierced." The winds of heaven have blown upon the valley of dry bones ; they have revived ; they have come forth out of their graves, and, seizing every one the banner of his tribe, have hastened to join the army of Messiah. Hail! happy day! Jesus the Con- queror reigns; the song of triumph re- sounds; island answers to island, con- tinent to continent, world to world. Earth with all its voices, heaven with all its harps, resound, "The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his anointed, and he shall reign forever and ever. Alle- luia! alleluia! the Lord God Omnipo- tent reigneth;" "he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new!" Even now the Spirit is moving on the face of the human chaos; fiat after fiat goes forth, and what light breaks in on the darkness of ages ! what mighty masses of humanity are uplifting them- selves in solemn majesty, like primitive mountains rising from the deep ! What more than verdant beauty clothes the moral landscape! Hoav gloriously dawns the Sabbath of the world! "Where is now the midnight gloom of darkness and idolatry, the desolation and misery attendant on sin? We look and listen, but no reign of darkness, no habitation of cruelty, no sound of anguish re- mains. The will of God is done on earth, as it is done in heaven ; the na- tions own no other law, and hence their aspect is that of a happy family. The Church aims at no other end, and hence all her members are invested with the garments of salvation, and with the robes of praise. The world is bathed in the light of peace, and purity, and love. Inanimate nature itself partakes of the general joy. To the eye of the re- newed man it exhibits a beauty un- known before, and to his ear it brings lessons of surpassing wisdom. The trees wave with gladness, and the floods clap their hands; the light of the moon is as the light of the sun, and the light of the sun is sevenfold. Over the scene the morning stars sing together and the sons of God shout for joy, while the di- vine Creator himself complacently be- holds it and joroclaims it good. THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM : AN ALLEGORY, UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DEEAM, BEING A CONDENSED ACCOUNT OF BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. WITH EXPLANATORY NOTES BY VARIOUS AUTHORS. "J have used similitudes" Hosea, xii : 10, BY JOHN W. BAP. BE P., AUTHOR OF SEVERAL HISTORICAL AND RELIGIOUS WORKS. BRADLEY, GARRETSON & CO., PHILADELPHIA, No. 66 NORTH FOURTH STREET, WILLIAM GARRETSON & CO., GALESBURG, ILL., COLUMBUS, OHIO, NASHVILLE, TENN., HOUSTON, TEXAS, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 1875- Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year mdccclxvi. By JOHN W. BARBER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticut. CHRISTIAN PILGRIM. This ancient-looking picture is a great curiosity, "being in all its feat- tires the same as that in the seventh edition of the Pilgrim's Progress, published in 1681. ^vhen Mr. Bunyan was fifty -three ye^ars of age — nearly tico hundred years since. It was intended as a portrait of Bunyan dreaming. In front is a lion in a den, probably emblematic of the jail at Bedford with its oecupant. In the background is the City of Destruction, from which Christian is fleeing toward the wicket gate with a burden on his back and a book in his hand. INTRODUCTION. »»« Two centuries ago, John Biinyan was a prisoner in Bedford jail, in England, for preaching tke Gospel according to the dictates of his conscience, being a dissenter from the established church. He was committed to jail in 1680, and was a prisoner for more than twelve years. While there, he penned several religious works, which were afterward published. AVhile thus shut out from the world, like John the RcA^elator, on the isle of Patmos, the immortal alle- gory of the "Pilgrim's Progress" was conceived (may we not say) in the inspired mind of the Author, and probably mostly written, before he was liberated from prison. For nearly a century, this remarkable work remained in com- parative obscurity, being considered rather beneath the notice of the literati of that age. It was, however, popular among the m(U';d and religious part of the common people, the same class of old who "heard gladly" the words of the Divine Teacher. In more modern times, when the learned and polished wished to ascertain the cause why a book "written by a tinker" could continue to be so popular among so large a class of people, they discovered that John Bunyan, with all his want of learning-, to^-ether with his rou2,-hness of stvle, was indeed "a child of genius and providence, a writer of striking originality and power." The Pilgrim's Progress has been published in every variety of form — some of the editions with all the attractions which art or taste could impart — and it has found a place in the libraries and drawing-rooms of lords and nobles. "It has been read with avidity wherever the English language is spoken, and has been translated into more than thirty languages — an honor paid to no other book, (5) THE CHRISTIAN PILGKIM. the Book of God alone excepted." Although two centuries have nearly passed since it was first issued, the work now stands higher in the public estimation than at any former period, and there is every reason to believe that it will be read with admiration and advantage until the consummation of all things. The secret of Bunyan's charm is the strong human interest which he gives to his characters. Dr. Franklin remarks that " Honest John Bunyan is the first who has mingled narrative and dialogue together — a mode of writing very engaging to the reader, who, in the most interesting passages, finds himself admitted, as it were, into the company, and present at the conversation." "The happy idea," says James Montgomery, "of representing his story under the similitude of a dream, enabled him to portray, with all the liveliness of reality, the scenes which passed before him. It makes the reader himself, like the author, a spectator of all that occurs, thus giving him a personal interest in the events, an indi- vidual sympathy for the actors and sufferers." Jbobert Southey, the poet-laureate, the high-church advocate, the apologist of persecution, describes the "Pilgrim's Progress" as a " book which makes its way through the fancy to the understanding and the heart. The child pursues it with wonder and delight ; in youth we discover the genius it displays ; its worth is apprehended as we advance in years ; and we perceive its merits feelingly in declining age." The estimate of Coleridge is remarkable. He says : " This won- derful work is one of the very few books which may be read over repeatedly at different times, and each time with new and different pleasure. I read it once ,as a theologian — and let me assure you that there is a great theological acumen in the work — once with devotional feelings, and once as a poet I know of no book, the Bible excepted, as above all comparison, which I, according to my judgment and experience could so safely recommend as teach- ing and enforcing the whole saving truth, according to the mind that was in Jesus Christ, as the "Pilgrim's Progress." It is, in my conviction, incomparably the best summa theologce evangeUcce ever produced by a writer not miraculously inspired. I hold John Bun- yan to be a man of incomj^arably greater genius than any of them (the divines), and to have given a far more edifying picture of Christianity. His "Pilgrim's Progress" seems to -be a complete reflection of Scripture, with none of the rubbish of theologians mixed up with it. I have been always struck by its piety; I am now, INTRODUCTION? having read it througli again, after a long interval, struck equally, or even more, by its profound wisdom." ^ Macauley places the shrine of Bunyan next to that of Milton, in his hero worship. In his review of "'Southey's Life of Bunyan," he says : " The characteristic peculiarity of the " Pilgrim's ProgTcss " is, that it is the only work of its kind Avhich possesses a strong human interest. Other allegories only amuse the fancy. It is not so with the "Pilgrim's Progress. That wonderful book, while it obtains admiration from the most fastidious critics, is loved by those who are too simple to admire it. In the wildest parts of Scotland it is the delight of the peasantry. In every nursery the " Pilgrim s Progress " is a greater favorite than "Jack the Giant Killer." Every reader knows the strait and narrow path as well as he knows the road in which he has gone backward and forward a hundred times. This is the highest miracle of genius — that things which are not, should be as though they were — that the imaginations of one mind should become the personal recollections of another ; and this mira- cle the tinker has wrought. The style of Bunyan is delightful to every reader, and invaluable, as a study, to every person who wishes to obtain a wide command over the Enii-lish lanmiaa'e. The vocabu- lary is the vocabulary of the common people. For magnifiecnce, for pathos, for vehement exhortations, for subtle disquisitions, for every purpose of the poet, the orator, and the divine, this homely dialect, the dialect of plain working men, was perfectly sufficient. Though there were many clever men in England during the latter half of the seventeenth century, there were only two great creative minds: one of those minds produced the "Paradise Lost," the other the "Pilgrim's Progress!" Other alleii-orists have shown great in- • -O 'ill genuity, but no other allegorists have ever been able to touch the heart, and to make abstractions objects of terror, of piety, and of love." Elstow is one mile from the outskirts of Bedford, There arc no houses on the route between the villages. The country is open and generally level, having very much the appearance of the better por- tion of our northern Atlantic States, excepting, of course, the hedge- rows on each side of the road, which were so tliick-set, that in many places one could hardly see into the fields adjoining the road. As I entered the village, I was quite struck with the appearance of a man tinJcering in the narrow street, nearly opposite the small house seen in the central part of the engraving. This house, I was afterward informed, was the one in which John Bunyan was born, 8 THE CHEISTIAN PILGRIM. and where he lived, and, in all probability, worked at the same business, on or near the same spot, two centuries before. The ac- companying view shows the southern extremity of the village as it ELSTOW, THE BIRTH-PLACE OF JOHN BUNYAN. Drawn by the Author, tohen on a visit to this place several years since. is entered on the Bedford road. The hawthorn hedges appear on each side of the road, and the thatched-roofed cottages next. The Bunyan house is the smallest in the view, and has two windows in its roof. By the very ancient appearance of the houses and sur- roundings, I should judge there had been no material alteration in the appearance of the village since the time that Bunyan lived in it, two centuries since. Even the dress of some of the inhabitants appeared quite antiquated, and judging from some language which I heard while in the village, the morality of the inhabitants remained at the same standard as in the days of Bunyan. Having made some inquiries of an aged and respectable inhabit- ant, who had always lived within a few rods of the Bunyan house, ho kindly otfered his services in conducting me to the localities in INTEODUCTION. which I felt interested. The cottage in which Bunyan was born, and in which he lived, was of course the first spot visited. As I entered this humble, but venerated dwelling, I was struck with the appearance of its great antiquity. The entrance door from the street was so low that a person of* but moderate height could but hardly enter it without stooping. The floor was of brick, and the timbers overhead projected below the ceiling. AVilliam Church, the tenant, was absent as a day laborer, but his wife, a respectable looking woman, was working at the wash-tub, near the large fire- place. I told her I had rather have the privilege of coming under her roof than of going into the palace of Queen Victoria, and that John Bunyan, the tinker, who once lived in her house, was better known and more respected in America, where I belonged, than all the kings and queens they ever had, or probably ever would have, in England. Also that John Bunyan's book was more read and admired in my country than in any other, and that his name would be venerated while the names of th-eir great men of the present age would be forgotten. Bedford Jail, where Bunyan wrote his Pilgrim's Pronrcss. THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAK John Bunyan, the author of the Pilgrim's Progress, was born in 1628, at Elstow, a small village about a mile from Bedford. His parents were very poor, and his father followed the occupation of a tinker, but bore a fair character. He took care that his son, whom he brought up to the same business, should be taught to read and write. The character of Bunyan, in his youth, previous to his con- version, is usually represented as extremely profligate and wicked. This does not appear from the facts recorded of his life. His beset- ting and prominent sin was that of profanity,* to which he got addicted at an early age. His fluency of speech and force of man- ner probably rendered him conspicuous among his companions in this vice. To his habit of swearing, he probably added that of lying, and he might have been properly called a common swearer. It does not appear that he was guilty of the prevalent sin of intem- perance or licentiousness. Although perfectly willing to speak of himself in the most disparaging terms, he emphatically denied that he was ever guilty of the latter crime. At a very early age his conscience condemned him, and he suffered much by frightful dreams about devils and lost spirits — the reflec- tion, no doubt, of religious impressions on a sensitive mind. The * It is beHeved that this odious habit still prevails to some extent in Bun- yan's native place. When on a visit to Elstow, in 1853, as I was passing through the narrow street of the village, by one of its humble dwellings, I heard, from within, profane language. This, with the circumstance of a man's tinkering in the street, at the same time, and both within a few yards of the house where Bunyan was born, was somewhat- of a remarkable occurrence. The "Immortal Dreamer" was represented in two j)hascs of his youthful char- acter — first, he was heard as a common swearer, and, second, he was seen as a tinker, on the very spot they were exhibited two centuries ago. — j. w. B. (10) THE LIFE OF JOHX BUNYAN. 11 fears of future retribution came upon him, not only in the night season,' but also during his waking hours, when he had hardly reached the age of ten years, when among his vain companions. At such times, when deeming it in vain to wish there were no hell, he could wish himself a devil, so that, instead of being tormented, he could be the tormentor. A copious narrative of these inward conflicts and of his outward life is contained in a treatise published by himself under the title of " Grace abounding to the chief of sinners.^' While in his career of sin and folly, uttering profanity with almost every word, he was severely reproved by a woman, who was a notorious sinner herself, who said that it made her tremble to hear him, adding that he was "the ungodliest fellow for swearing, that she ever heard in all her life, and that he was able to spoil all the youth in the whole town, if they came into his company." This reproof, coming from such a woman, tilled him with shame, and from that time he began to leave off the practice. In this part of his life he was several times preserved from death — twice from drowning, and once from the fangs of a poisonous reptile. In 1645, being a soldier in the Parliament's army at the siege of Leicester, Ije was drawn out to stand sentinel ; but one of his comrades, hav- ing by his own desire, taken his place, was shot through the head on his post. Bunyan was married at the early age of nineteen. The young woman who became his wife was almost portionless, and they began housekeeping without so much as " a dish or spoon " between them. She was the daughter of a person who had been>very religious in his way,^ and remarkably bold in reproving vice. Her discourse to him of ner deceased father's piety, excited him to go regularly to church; and as she brought him for her whole portion. The Practice of Pietij and The plain man's Pathway to Heaven, he employed him- self frequently in reading these books, this, with her conversa- tion, caused him to make some exertions to reform his life. He now, to adopt his own language, "fell in very engerly with the religion of the times." He was very punctual in his attend- ance at church in his native village, and had great reverence for every thing connected with it— the priest, the clerk, the altar, and surplice. His first clear sense of the evil of sin seems to have been by the impression made upon him by a sermon against Sabbath, breaking, a practice in which he continued to indulge, notwith- standing he had become a diligent frequenter of the church. By methods certain, though gradual, however, and in spite ot 12 THE CHRISTIAN PILGEIM. frequent relapses, Bunyan was being led to clearer and more scrip- tural views. Though the impressions of the sermon wore oif while he was at dinner, and he betook him to the afternoon sports then tolerated by law, his serious thoughts returned as quickly as they had vanished. "The same day," he relates, "as I was in the midst of a game of cat, and having struck it one blow from the hole, just as I was about to strike the second time, a voice did suddenly dart from heaven into m}'" soul, which said, 'AVilt thou leave thy sins and go to heaven, or have thy sins and go to hell?' At this I was put to an exceeding maze; wherefore leaving my cat upon the ground, I looked up to heaven, and was as if I had, with the eyes of my understanding, seen the Lord Jesus looking down upon me, as being very hotly displeased with me, as if he did severely threaten me with some grievous punishment." He was now tempted to conclude that it was too late to repent, and that he had better follow his corrupt inclinations without restraint, as he could have no other pleasure during his whole existence. Bunyan, notwithstanding all his convictions, seemed reluctant to part with his irreligious associates and vain pleasures, until the conversion of a poor man, who came in his way, induced him to read the Bible, especially the preceptive and historical parts of it, and this put him upon an entire reformation of his conduct, so that his neighbors were greatly astonished at the change. In this man- ner he went oil for about a year, at sometimes satisfied with him- self, and at others distressed with fears and consciousness of guilt. While in this state of mind, when at Bedford, in the exercise of his trade as a tinker, he overheard the conversation of three or four poor women respecting regeneration or the new birth, and thougu he did not understand their meaning, he was greatly aifected by the earnestness, cheerfulness and humilitv of their behavior. Being thus led to frequent their company, he was convinced that his own views of religion were very defective, and he was brought, as it were, into a new world. Such an entire change took place in his views and affections, and his mind was so deeply engaged in contemplating the great concerns of eternity, and the things per- taining to the kingdom of God, that he found it difficult to think on any other subject. This uncommon flow of affections, not being with proportionate religious knowledge, laid him open to the various attempts of Satan and his enli^sarie^s. Among these were the Banters, a sect of' the time, who made loud professions of faith, but had very little to do with good works. While engaged in reading their books, THE LIFE OP JOHN BUNYAN. 13 not being able to decide, in his judgment, about them, he was led to offer up the following prayer which is perfectly api)ropriate to all persons in the same circumstances, in all ages or places: "0, Lord, I am a Fool, ai^d not able to know the truth from error: Lord, leaA'e me not to my own blindness, either to approve or condemn this doctrine. If it be of Grod, let me not despise it; if it be of the Devil, let me not embrace it. Lord, I lay my soul in this matter onl}^ at thy feet ; let me not be deceived, I humbly beseech thee." No Christian will be surprised that such a prayer, in such a spirit was granted. The Epistles of St. Paul, which he now read with great attention, but without any guide or instructor, gave occasion to his being assaulted by sore temptations. He found the A})Ostle had much to say about faith ; and he could not understand the meaning of that word, or discover whether he was a believer or not. He was tempted to seek a solution of the difhculty by trying to work a miracle. He thought, however, it would be right to pray before he made the attempt, and thus he was induced to desist, though his difficulties remained. By the means of these inward trials, he was enabled, afterward, to instruct others on these subjects, and more tenderly to sympathize with the tempted. Eventually, Bunyan became acquainted with Mr. Clifford, a Bap- tist minister, at Bedford, whose conversation was useful to him. Soon after this, he was admitted, by baptism, a member of Mr. Gil- ford's church, in 1665, being then twenty-seven years old. Soon, he was earnestly desired by his brethren to expound, or preach, as a preparation for the ministry. At tirst he resisted their importu- nity, under a deep sense of incompetency; but was at length pre- vailed upon to speak in a small company, which he did, greatly to their satisfaction. Having been thus proved for a considerable time, he was at length called forth, and set apart to the ministerial office by fasting and prayer. This he executed with faitlifulness and suc- cess during a long course of years, though frecjuently through many inward trials. Bunyan's companions and associates, before his conversion, were among the scum of every town and village in the county among which he itinerated, while working: at his trade as a tinker. To this class, among whom he had been a ringleader^ m their vicious con- 14 THE CHKISTIAN PILGKIM. duct, he felt himself particularly drawn during the first years of his ministry. Accordingly, his "great desire," as he calls it, was to get into the darkest places of the country, even among those people who were the furthest off of a profession. "My spirit," he adds, "did lean most after awakening and converting work, and the word I carried did lean itself most that way also." This it doubt- less was that led him to write and circulate that awakening work, ^'' Sighs from Hell; or, The Groans of a Damned SouV — a work no man could have written who had not been in the ways of the ungodly himself, and known experimentally the pangs of remorse. When the restoration of the monarchy took place after the civil wars in England, the laws were framed and executed with a severity evidently intended to exclude every man who scrupled the least tittle of the doctrine, liturgy, or government of the established church. John Bunyan was one of the first sufferers by them ; for, being courageous and unreserved, he went on in his ministerial work without any disguise. On November 12th, 1660, he was apprehended by a warrant from Justice Wingate, at Harlington, near Bedford, with sixty other persons, and committed to the county jail. Security was offered for his appearance at the sessions, but it was refused, as his sureties would not consent that he should be restricted from preaching. When his trial came on, the indictment stated "that John Bun- yan, of the town of Bedford, laborer, had devilishly and perniciously abstained from coming to church to hear divine service; and was a common upholder of several unlawful meetings and conventicles, to the great disturbance and distraction of the good subjects of this kingdom, contrary to laws of our Sovereign Lord the King." The facts charged upon him were never proved, as no witnesses were produced. He had, however, confessed before the magistrates that he was a Dissenter, and had preached ; these words being considered as equivalent to conviction, were recorded against him, and as he refused to conform, he was sentenced to perpetual banishment. This sentence, indeed, was not executed, but he was confined in Bedford jail more than twelve years, notwithstanding several attempts were made to obtain his deliverance. It appears that sixty Dissenters and two ministers were confined with Bunyan in this jail, and as some were discharged, others were committed during the time of his imprisonment. This painful situation, however, gave him an opportunity of privately exercising his ministry to good effect. He learned, in prison, to make lagged- THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 15 thread laces in the intervals of his other labors, and by this employ- ment he provided for the wants of himself and family. He seems to have been endued with extraordinary patience and courage, and to have experienced abundant consolations while enduring these hardships ; he was, however, sometimes distressed about his family, especially his eldest daughter, who was blind ; but in these trying seasons he received comfort from meditating on the promises of God's Word. Bunyan, like Joseph in Egypt, found a friend in the keeper of the prison. He permitted him to see his family and friends, and during the former • part of his imprisonment he was even allowed to go out occasionally, and once to London, probably to ascertain whether lesial redress mio'ht be obtained. Elizabeth, the wife of Bunyan, a very superior woman and faithful wife, made several applications to the judges for the liberation of her husband. Sir Matthew Hale, one of the justices at that period, touched with hu- mane feelings, promised to do his best for her, but expressed a fear of being unable to grant her petition. In 1671, the last year of his imprisonment, Bunyan was chosen pastor of the Baptist Church at Bedford, though it does not appear what opportunity he could have of exercising his pastoral office except within the precints of the jail. His release from imprison- ment was eifected by royal authority. The Quakers and Baptists carrying their dissent to a greater extent than other non-conformists, were more severely punished, many of them being thrown into prison. The advisers of Charles II, having tried "many and fre- quent ways of coercion for reducing all erring dissenting persons," and being convinced, by the sad experience of twelve years, that there was very little fruit of all those forcible courses, wisely coun- seled his majesty to suspend the execution of all penal laws against all dissenters, except Catholics, and induced him to declare in favor of licensing places of worship for them. Active measures were taken by some of the leading Quakers for obtaining the benefit of the indulgence for some hundreds of their friends. George ^yllitc- head, the foremost among them, knowing Bunyan, advised him to petition the king. The consequence was that his name was inserted in the General Pardon granted for the Quakers, dated September 13th, 1672. A short time after his enlargement, he built a meeting-house at Bedford, by the voluntary contributions of his friends ; and here he preached, to large audiences, until his death. He used to go to u 16 THE CHEISTIAN PILGRIM. London every yetir, where he labored among the non-conformists with great acceptance. He likewise made stated circuits into other parts of England, and animated his brethren to bear the cross j^a- tiently, to obey God rather than man, and to leave all consequences with JHim. He was, at the same time, very attentive to the temporal iwants of those who suffered for conscience' sake. He employed his influence very successfully in reconciling differences among profess- ors of the Grospel, thus preventing disgraceful litigations. He was very exact in family religion and instruction of his children, caring more for their spiritual than temporal interests. The last act of Banyan's life was one of charity, A young man, under his father's displeasure, implored his intercession ; for which purpose he journeyed to Reading, in Berkshire. Having succeeded in his errand, he was on his way back through London, when he stopped at the house of his friend Strudwick, on Snow Hill, very wet with the heav}^ rain then falling. He was soon after seized with a fever, which, in ten days, terminated his useful life. He bore his malady with great patience and composure, and died in a very comfortable ano' triumphant manner, August 31st, 1688, aged sixt}' years. He w^as buried in Bunhill fields, in London, where a tombstone to his memory is to be seen. Bunyan was twice married. By his first wife he had four children, one of which, named Mary, was blind, and died before him. He was married to his second wife about 1658, two years before his. imprisonment, by whom he seems not to have had any children; she survived him about four years. Thomas, his oldest son, became a preacher in 1692. The last of his descendants, of whom any record is found in Elstow, is Hannah Bunyan, his great-grand' daughter, who died February 15, 1770, aged seventy-six years. A lineal descendant from Bunyan, Mrs, Senegar, by his son Jose23h, was living at Islington in 1847, aged eighty-four; and there was living at Lincoln, in 1853, an aged fixrmer, Robert Bunyan, a lineal descendant through the same parentage. THE OHRISTIAK PILGRIM; AN ALLEGORY, CONDENSED FROM THE PILGRLM'S PROGRESS. Christian flees from the Citij of Destruction, and is directed hj Evan- gelist to the Wicket Gate. As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I came to a certain place where was a Den ; I lay down, and as I slept, I dreamed, and behold ! I saw a man clothed in rags, standing with his face from his own house, in the City of Destruc- tion, with a book in his hand, and a great burden on his back. I saw him open the book, and as he read therein, he wept and trem- bled, crying out, "What shall I do to be saved?" In this miserable plight he returned home, where, unable to conceal his distress, his friends and neio-hbors thouo-ht that his mind was disordered, and some of them even ridiculed and reproached him. In order to obtain some relief he retired from his companions, and spent nmch of his time in reading and praying. In one of his solitary walks, as he was bemoaning his condition, he saw a man coming toward him named Evangelist. This venerable person asked him " Why he weptf "Because, sir, this sacred book informs me that I am con- demned to die, and after that, brought to judgment." Then Evnn- gelist put a parchment scroll into his hands, on which was written, '' Flee from the wrath to come.'" The man, after he had read these words, exclaimed, " Whither must I fly?" Then Evangelist, point- ing with his finger over a verv wide iield, inquired if he beheld a wicket gate. The man said, ""No." Then said the other, "Do you see yonder shining light?" He said, "I think I do." Then said (1"; 18 THE CHRISTIAN PILGPtlM. Evangelist, "Keep that light in view, and you will find the gate, where you will be directed what to do." Mr. Banyan wrote his "Immortal prized in the Christian world. The Allegory " in Bedford jail, where he was person clothed in rags represents the confined several years, for preaching man who first sets out to be a Christian ; the Gospel in an unauthorized manner, the book in his hand, the Bible; his He refers to this when he speaks of the rags, his self-righteousness ; and the "Den." The Lord frequently causes burden on his back, his distressing "the wrath of man to praise him." sense of guilt ; the City of Destruction, Had not Banyan been shut up in jail, where he resided, represents the pres- it is not probable that we would have ent evil world. Evangelist is the true ever seen the Pilgrim's Progress and minister of Christ, who points out the other works whicli are now so highly only way of salvation. Christian, Obstinate, and Pliable. Slough of Despond. After Chris- tian had been directed bv Evano,-elist, he bes-an to run toward the light which he saw in the distance. His wife, children, and neigh- bors cried after him to return, but Christian, putting his fingers in his ears, ran on, crying '•'•Life I Life! eternal lifeP^ Two of his neighbors. Obstinate and Pliable, ran after him, to fetch him back by force. Christian not only withstood the noisy and bitter reproaches of Obstinate, who soon gave up his purpose, but he prevailed upon Pliable to accompany him, by representing to him the glories of the Celestial City to which he was going. He told him that if faith- ful, they would have everlasting life given them ; crowns of glory would be granted, and garments which would shine like sun in the heavens ; and they would forever dwell in perfect happiness and joy. Pliable was much elated with these glorious prospects, and pressed forward so fast that Christian could hardly keep up with him. By and by, being heedless, they both fell into a miry slough, in the midst of the plain, called the Slouf/h of Despond. This unwel- come accident so discouraged Pliable that he struggled out on the side next his own house, and turned back immediately. Christian exerted all his efforts and reached the opposite side, and not being able, on account of the burden on his back, to ascend the bank, a person named Help assisted him on to the solid ground. Few persons become truly serious cution ariseth." The miry place, or without some opposition from irrelig- Slough of Despond, represents that ious relatives or neighbors; some of desponding state of mind into which these are obstinate, and despise religion some convinced sinners and new con- altogether; others are more pliable, and verts fall at first, arising from igno- profess to bo religious for a time, but ranee of the grace of (lod in the Goe- turn back "when tribulation or perse- pel. THE CHllISTIAN PILGlilM. 10 Chnstlan deceived hy Worldhj-imseman. After Christian had passed the slough, he pursued his onward journey. He had not traveled far, before he discovered a person at a distance crossing over the plain to meet him. The man's name was Worldly -Wiseman^ and he dwelt in the town of Carnal Policy, near the City of Destruction. He was a very fair-spoken person, and had very much the appear- ance of a gentleman. When he came up to our laboring pilgrim, *' How now," said he, "my honest fellow; whither art thou trudg- ing with that heavy burden upon thy back?" " HeaA'y indeed! sir," replied Christian, " for I have not strength enough to get it off myself; but I am directed, by the advice of Evangelist, to the Wicket Gate, where I shall be shown how to get rid of it." ^'' Evan- gelist P'' replied the other, "he hath, I see, already directed you into the Slough of Despond, where you have been bemired, and if you continue to follow his advice, you will encounter many other diffi- culties and dangers of like nature, or something much worse." "I see," continued he, " that jowy mind has become disordered by poring too much over that mysterious book you hold in your hand. Weak men, by meddling with things too high for them, often get them- selves into your distracted state of mind. I can, however, direct you haw you can get rid of your burden easier than the way yon are now going." Christian then replied, " Do, sir, give me this^ information." Worldly-wiseman then directed him to a village near at hand, named Morality, where dwelt a very judicious old gentle- man named Legality, who had relieved thousands of their burdens like his ; and if he was not at home, his son, Mr. Civility, could easily supply his place. In order to get to his house. Christian was directed to strike into a road which passed a high hill, in the distance. Worldly-wiseman represents the give the very best counsel to those teachers of mere 7norality, who dislike who wish to serve both God and mam- the doctrines of the (rosiDel. He is a mon. He is decided in his judgment person of consequence, a reputable and against all kinds of religion which in- successful man; prudent, sagacious, and terfere with a man's worldly interests, acquainted with mankind ; moral and and disquiets his mind, religious in his way, and qualified to Christian at Mount Sinai. As Christian drew near the hill {Mount Sinai) to which he had been directed, he perceived it was very high and craggy. But when he came to notice that side of it which lay near the road, projected over it in a very dangerous manner, he was afraid to venture any further; also, his burden seemed heavier to 20 THE CHRISTIAN PILGiliM, GALATIANS, Chap, ii : verse 16. ISAIAH, Chap. Ixiv; verse 6. GALATIANS, Chap, iii : verse 10. ROMANS, Chap, iii : verse 20. GALATIANS, Chap, v: verse 4. iLChnstianSiuito carnal luea give ;ear, *Out of their way^flieygt*. and pay forX di'ar, ;Fov master Worldly -Wiseinati cauljiit sbovir A S aint the >vay to Bouj^se >^Ti3 Jo wo. LUKE, Chap, xiii; verse 24. I CORINTH'NS, Chap, i; verse 20. HEBREWS, Chap, xii: verse 29. ROMANS, Chap, x: verse 4. TITUS, Chap, iii: verse 5. " Also Ms burden now seemed heavier to him than while he rvas on his way. TJiere came also flashes of fire out of the hill, that made Christian afraid that he should be burned; here therefore he did sxceat and quake icith fear. And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worldly -Wiseman's counsel.''^ THE CIIJIISTIA:^' PILGEIM. 21 » him than while he was on his way. There came, also, flashes of fire out of the hill that made Christian afraid that he should be burned ; here, therefore, he did much sweat and quake with fear. And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr. A¥orldly-wise- man's counsel. While in this deplorable situation he saw Evanrje- list coming to meet him, at the sight of whom he was ready to sink ■'with shame, as he had gone contrary to his directions. This friendly visitor at first beheld him with a severe countenance, and told him he had been guilty of folly in thus beginning to reject the counsels of the Most High, in withdrawing from the paths of peace. Chris- tian now sunk before him in humility and self-abasement, exclaim- ing, " Woe is me, for I am undone." Evangelist now caught him by the hand, saying, that " sin would be forgiven to those who re- pented and believed the Gospel." He then proceeded to infoi-m him that Mr. Legality was a formal imposter and could do him no good. In confirmation of what he had said. Evangelist appealed to the decision of heaven : upon which a loud voice was heard from the fiery hill or mountain, saying, "As many as are of the works of the law are under the curse; for it is written. Cursed is every one that continueth not in all thin<2:s written in the book of the Law to do them." After this, Evangelist cautioning him not to turn aside again. Christian resumed his journey. Legality, or that system which teaches blood of Christ for pardon and deliver- salvation by the works of the law, is an ance. Gospel comfort can only be ob- enemy to the cross of Christ; it leads tained vintil the soul rejects the doctrine the soul astray, and prevents it from of Legality, Avhich trusts upon our own believing in, and trusting wholly in the works for justification. Christian arrives at the Wicket Gate. Christian having regained the path which he had left, to pass Mount Sinai, he soon came to the wicket, or narrow gate, to which he had been directed by EvaJige- list. He found written over it, " Knock, and it shall be opened unto you." He did as the inscription directed, and repeated his knocking several times. At last a grave person, whose name was Good will, came to the gate, and after being informed who he was, and that he was traveling to Mount Zion, very readily admitted him. But when Christian was entering, the other pulled him forward with great seeming violence, which was a necessary precaution, for there was a strong castle near the gate, from whence a company, under the command of Beelzebub, who, with himself, shot arrows at those who came up to the gate, so that they may kill those who are about 22 THE CHEISTIAN PILGEIM. to enter. As soon as Christian had passed through the gate, he was cautioned to keep on the narrow way thrown up by the Apostles, which was strait as a line. Being anxious to get rid of his burden he was assured that when he came to the place of deliverance, it would ftill of itself. He was alsa told to call at the house of the Inter^preter^ who would show him many excellent things. The G-ate, or door, represents the rer rows at him. The Gate is narrow, so ception of the broken-hearted sinner by that none can take their sins with them, Christ himself, for he has nothing but and the path is '^straight as a line," in good will toward them; as one becomes opposition to the ci'ooked ^yays of men, more decided in applying to Christ, so for it consists in an uniform piety, in- Satan, if permitted, will shoot his ar- tegrity, andesincerity. The Interpreter's House — Portrait — Busty Boom. Having arrived at the Interpreter's house, Christian was received by the Interpre- ter with kindness and hospitality. The first thing shown to him was the portrait of a venerable person, with his eyes directed toward heaven, the best of books in his hand, the law of truth written on his lips, the world behind his back, and a dazzling crown of glory over his head. This portrait the Interpreter re- quested Christian to notice, as it was a likeness of the person who alone is authorized to be his guide in difficult or dangerous situa- tions. He was next conducted into a large parlor, that was filled with dust, because never swept. The Interj^reter called for a man to sweep it, which, when he had begun to do, the room was filled with a cloud of dust that Christian was almost stifled. A damsel, who stood by, was ordered to bring some water and sprinkle the floor, it was swept and cleansed with pleasure. " This parlor," said the Interpreter, "shows the heart of an unsanctified man; the dust is his original sin and inward corruptions. He that began to sweep is the Laiv; she that brought the water and sprinkled it is the Gospel. The Laiu of Works shows the depravity of the heart, but can not remove it. The influences of the Gospel prevents the risings of sin, and the heart becomes purified. The Interpreter means the Holy upward to heaven for help, and has in Spirit, by whom all real Christians are his hand the Book of God, by which he taught. The Portrait is a true picture is guided. The dusty room very plain - of a gospel minister. He is one who ly represents the unsanctified humaik has put the world behind him; he looks heart. Patience and Passmi, Grace Sustained. Christian was next taken into a little room and directed by the Interpreter to observe two THE CHEISTIAX PILGKIM. children, each of whom was sitting in a chair. The name of the eldest was Passion; the other's name Patience. Passion was much discontented, but Patience was very quiet. The reason of Passion being so discontented was, that the governor of these children wished them to wait for their best things until the beginning of a new year. Passion wanted every thing now, but Patience was will- ing to wait. Some one came in to Passion with a bag of treasure, and poured it down at his feet, which he took up with eagerness and laughed Patience to scorn. But soon he lavished his treasure away, and hath nothing left but rags. Christian was now taken into an apartment where there was a fire burning against a wall, and one standing by, who constantly poured water upon it to extin- guish the flame, but it grew hotter and brighter. "This," said the Interpreter, "is the work of Grace in the heart; he that tries to put it out is Satan." Christian was then taken to the other side of the wall, where he saw a person secretly conveying oil into the flame by which it was sustained. This represents Christ who sustains the flame by the oil of his grace. Passion and Patience represent car- for joys to come. The latter emblem nal and spiritual men ; the former pre- shows how the work of Grace is sa- fer to have their good things in this cretly aided and sustained in the hu- life; the latter live by faith, and look man soul. The Hero who wins Eternal Glory. The Interpreter now took Chris- tian to a pleasant place, where was built a stately palace, beautiful to behold, where he saw persons walking, who were all clothed in gold. Before the palace there stood many armed men, who appear- ed determined to oppose all who attempted to enter. At a little dis- tance from the entrance sat a man with a book, to take the names of those who would enter the palace. Many who wished to enter, on seeing the armed men, were so discouraged that they made no effort to force the passage. But, at length, a man of a very stout counte- nance came up to him who sat to write, saying, "Set down my name, sir," which, when done, the man drew his sword, put a helmet on his head, and then rushed toward the door, upon the armed men. After a fierce contest, in which many wounds were given and re- ceived, he cut his way through them all, and pressed forward into the palace. The conqueror now heard heavenly voices from within and from those that walked on the top of the palace, saying : " Come in. come in. Eternal glory thou shalt win." 24 THE CHEISTI AX PILGRIM. So he went in, " and was clothed with such garments as they." Then Christian smiled, and said, "I think I know the meaning of this." Many desire the joys and glories of forces his way and presses toward the heaven, according to their carnal ideas mark for the prize of his high calling of them, but few are willing to fight the of God in Christ Jesus. — Phil, iii, 14. good fight of faith. The similitude He is not content with a few lazy shows the spirit and disposition of a wishes or languid hopes; for the king- Boul who is determined to win Christ, dom of God suflereth violence, and the and to enjoy the kingdom of glory. In violent take it by force. — Matthew sjiite of all opposition, he resolutely xi, 12. The Man in an Iron Cage. Christian was next taken into a dark room, where there sat a man in an iron cage, with his ej^es fixed on the ground, his hands folded together, and sighing as if in ex- treme misery. While he was viewing this unhappy wretch, he was directed by the Intrepreter to talk with him. Christian readily com- plying, asked him who he was, and how came he into such a mis- ercible condition. "I was once," said the man, "a fair and flour- ishing professor of religion, both in my own eyes and in the eyes of others, and even had joy in the thought that I should be admit- ted into the heavenly city. But I am now a man of despair, and shut up in it, as in this iron cage. I can not get out. now I can not !" In answer to the inquiry he continued, "I came into this con- dition because I left off to watch and be sober ; indulged in lusts, pleasures, and profits of the world. I have sinned against the light of Grod's Word, abused his goodness ; I have tempted the evil one, and he is come to me. I have crucified the Son of God afresh. I have despised his person and righteousness, and I have so hardened my heart that I can not repent. 0, eternity! eternity! how shall I grapple with the misery that awaits me there!" Though it does not become us to them to repentance." "We must, how- limit the grace of God in cases of apos- ever, leave the doom of apparent apos- tasy, yet it is an awful fact that there tates to God, and lake warning, by such have been cases where the apostate has examples, to "shun even the apj^ear- been "shut up under despair," beyond ance of sin." relief; and "it is impossible to renew The man who dreamed of the Last Day. In the next apartment into which Christian was conducted, he saw a man rising hastily out of his bed, and while he was dressing himself he shook and trembled. When asked why he was thus agitated, he replied, "This night, in my dream, while I wa^ busy in my usual affairs, THE CHRISTIAN PILGEIM. 25 the heavens grew exceeding dark ; it also thundered and lightened in a fearful manner, which filled me with the utmost terror and alarm. Looking upward, I beheld the clouds convulsed at an un- usual rate; then came the sound of a mighty trumpet, and I saw also a man sit upon a cloud, attended with the hosts of heaven. Thou- sands of flaming spirits were in attendance to execute his orders, and the heavens were on fire. I heard then a voice as of the Eter- nal, saying, ^^ Arise ye dead and come to judgmentr and behold ! in the twinkling of an eye, the rocks were rent asunder, the mountains tottered and fell, the earth rolled and was agitated like the waves of the sea ; the graves were opened, and the dead that were therein came forth. Some of them were exceeding glad and looked up- ward, and some sought to hide themselves under the rocks and mountains. The man that sat upon the cloud opened a book and bade the world draw near. They were judged according to the things written in the book. I heard it also proclaimed by the man on the cloud, " Grather together the tares, the chaff, and stubble, and cast them into the burning lake." Upon that I saw the bottomless pit open, and multitudes thrust therein. It was also said, " Gather 7)11/ ivkeat into the garner^ And with that I saw many taken up and carried away into the clouds, but I was left behind. I sought to hide myself, but could not ; the all-seeing eye of him on the cloud was still upon me, with indignation in his countenance, and my sins came in my mind, and conscience accused me on every side. Upon this, I awakened from sleep." The Interpreter's curiosities, or em- tion of hope and fear; when devoid of blems, shown to Christian, are the prin- hope, we resemble a shij) without an cipal subjects which faithful ministers anchor; when unrestrained by fear, we enforce, publicly and in private, on all are like the same vessel under full sail, who begin to profess the Gospel. The without ballast, floundering at the mer- safety of all consists in a due propor- cy of the waves. Christian's burden falls at the Cross. After the Interpreter had charged Christian to keep all the things he had seen and heard in remembrance, he addressed himself to his onward journey, saying "Here I have seen thinirs rare and profitable ; Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable In what I have begun to take in hand; Then let me think on them and understand Wherefore they shewed me were; and let me be Thankful, O, good Interpreter, to thee." o* 26 THE CHEISTIAN PILGEIM. The road which he traveled was fenced on both sides with a high and substantial wall, called Salvation, so that he went forward with a cheerful heart, though at the same time with some difficulty, on account of the burden on his back. But when he came in sight of an elevated cross, which stood on a hill, his burden, which had so long pressed upon him, was loosed, and fell from his back. It con- tinued rolling down the hill until it came to the bottom, where there was a sepulcher, into which it fell, and was seen no more. The joy and astonishment of Christian at this great deliverance was so great, that he was lost in wonder, and when he came to himself and found it was no illusion, but that his burden was gone, he burst into tears of joy, and his mouth was filled with praise. While he stood look- ing and weeping, three shining angels appeared before him ; one said to him, "Peace be to thee; thy sins be forgiven thee." The second stripped him of his rags, and clothed him with a beautiful gar- ment; the third set a mark upon his forehead and gave him a rol] with a seal upon it, which he bade him look upon it as he ran, and that he should deliver it when he arrived at the Celestial Gate, and it would instantly procure him admittance into the Heavenly City. Thus far the Christian Pilgrim car- "shining ones"*suddenly appeared and I'ied with him the burdensome sense of gave him a beautiful garment, which his guilt and condemnation, but now signifies the righteousness of Christ, by faith he sees the Eedeemer's Cross, set a mark upon him showing that he the motive and efficacy of Christ's was the Lord's, and gave him a roll sufferings; he is relieved of his bur- with a seal ujion it denoting the assur- den, and is filled with joy and peace ance of salvation, in believing. While at the Cross three ^t>' Simple, Sloth, and Presiimjjtion. After Christian had experienced his great deliverance at the Cross, he pressed forward on his jour- ney. Arriving at the bottom of the hill, he saw, a little out of the way, three men, fast asleep, with fetters upon their feet. Their names were Simple or Stupidity, Sloth, and Fresiunption. Being of a compassionate disposition. Christian endeavored to awaken them, telling them that they were like those that slept on the top of a mast, and liable every moment to fall into the sea. Just opening their eyes. Stupidity said, "I see no danger;" Sloth said, "Yet a little more sleep;" awA Presumption said, "Every tub must stand on its own bottom." After having said this, they fell asleep again. Many who have transient convictions chained in bondage, to sin and Satan, learn to talk about religion, but still are They reject instruction and hate all THE CHEISTIAX PILGEIM. 27 trouble, and are coutident that it is all we will not be disturbed, and there is well with themselves. They say to them no necessity for making so much ado who warn them of their peril, "Mind about religion." Thus they sleep on your own business; we see no danger; until death and judgment awake them. Formalist and Hypocrisy. Traveling a little ftirther, Christian saw two men tumbling over the wall, on the left hand of the narrow way. They were Formalltij and Hypocrisy, who were born in the land of Vainglory. When Christian had overtaken them, he expos- tulated with them on the impropriety of their not coming in at the gate, where all were directed to come, and told them that to steal into the road, as they had done, was unlawful. To this they replied that the way they had taken was the shortest ; that what they had done was no more than thousands had done before them, and as they were in the way, it was sufficient, no matter how they got there. They also told Christian they did not see what he had gained by coming in at the gate, except the whimsical garment which had been given him to cover his nakedness. In a short time the three travelers came to a steep and high hill called Difficulty. As this was difficult to ascend, Formality and Hypocrisy discovered two other roads which passed by the side of the hill, which were much easier to travel; they concluded to pass over them. The name of one of thc3e roads was Danger the other Destruction. He that took the road Danger was led into a pathless wilderness ; the other, who took the path of Destruction, was soon lost in a desert full of darlL places, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no more. Formalist and Hypocrisy arc near re- the form of godliness, neither cTioosing lations ; the first represents those who, to walk in the way of self-denial. "When by their notions and observances, de- difficulties and persecutions arise, in ceive themselves ; the second, those order to secure their worldly interests, who more grossly attempt to impose they take some other path than the right upon others. Both are satisfied with one, and thus involve themselves in ruin. The Hill Difficulty— Christian loses his Foil. Christian, after re- freshing himself at the spring, at the foot of Mount Difficulty, began to go up the hill, saying : "The hill, though high, I covet to ascend, The difficulty will not mo offend; Come, pluck up heart, let 's neither faint nor fear, For, I perceive, the way of life lies here; Better, though difficult, the right way to go, Than wrong, though easy, where the end is woe." Christian at first went up rapidly, but was soon forced to fall from 28 THE CHEISTIAN PILGEIM. MATTHiEW, Chap, vii : verse I . PSALM xvii: verse 12. PSALM xxii: verse 21. LUKE, Chap, xii: verse 4. DANIEL, Chap, vi: verse 27. pioushlies sp6t>n tlielfiil,the lions 10 a^ ^ CbristiatL man is ii^vet^lons* at easej JOHN, Chap, x: verses 3, 9. PSALM xxiii: verse 5. PROVERBS, Chap, xiv: verses 8, 15.^ PSALM xxvii : verse 4. PSALM Ixxxiv: verse I. " Now^ before he had gone far, he entered into a very narrow passage^ which was about a furlong off of the Porter's Lodge; and looking very narrowly be- fore him as he went, he espied tico lions in the way. Then he was afraid. But the Porter, whose name is Watchful, cried unto him, saying, Fear not the Lions, for they are chained.'" THE CHEISTIAN PILCtRIM. 20 running to going, and from going to climbing on his hands and knees. When he had gained about half the ascent, he came to a pleasant arhoi\ made by the Lord of the Hill, for the refreshment of weary travelers. In this agreeable reces Christian sat down to rest him-^elf, and pulling the roll out of his bosom, read in it, with great pleasure, for a considerable time. But, at last, not being suf- ficiently on his guard, he fell into a deep sleep, until near night, and in his sleep his roll fell out of his hand. He was at length awakened by som3 one saying in his ear, "Go to the ant, thou sluggard, and be wise." This started him suddenly up, and he made the best of his way to the top of the hill, without once thinking of his roll. When he had gained the summit he saw two men, Mhtrud and Timorous, running to meet him, in great terror, as if jiui'sucd by an enemy. As soon as they came near, Christian asked them what was the matter? "The lions! the lions !" said they. "A^'e were going to the Celestial City, but the road is full of danger, and the further we go the worse it is." Without waiting for a reply, fearing the lions were after them, they ran down the hill. Christian, though afraid, resolved to ^o forward. Wishinc; to comfort himself by read- ing his roll, he felt in his bosom, but it was gone. He was now in great distress, for it was his pass to get into the Celestial City. As he was bemoaning himself in his sad condition, he thought he might possibly left it in the arbor. Groing carefully back, he looked on both sides of the road until he arrived at the arbor, where, to his great joy, he found the precious treasure. The Hill Difficulty represents those become unwatchful and droAvsy, and for seasons and situations in life, which a time even lose the evidence of his ac- requirepeculiar self-denial and exertion, ceptancc Avith God. Mistrust himX Tim- which test the Christian's sincerity af- orons arc great enemies of the Christian ter he has commenced his religious life, faith, and bi-ing uj) an evil rei)ort of If his trials be moderated, or if he re- the way of salvation. The true Chris- ceives an abundance of consolations, it tian, however, presses forward, and is possible that he may presume too soon experiences a sense of divine lavor, much on what ho has received ; he may which for a time he had apparently lost. Christian admitted into the Beautiful Palace. Christian, having re- sumed his journey, came, about tlie dusk of the evening, in sight of a stately palace, just by the wayside, named Beautiful. Now, be- fore he had gone far, he entered into a very narrow passage, which was about a furlong off from the Porter's lodge ; and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he espied two lions in the way. Then he was afraid to go further, for it seemed death was before 30 THE Clil^ISTIAN PILGEIM. him. But the porter, whose name is Watchful^ seeing Christian make a halt, as if he was going back, cried unto him, saying, "Fear not the Lions, for they are chained," and if he kept in the j^ath he would receive no harm. Christian then ventured forward with trembling, and though the lions roared loudly they did not touch him. Having arrived at the gate before which the Porter was standing, he inquired to whom the building belonged, and whether he might lodge there until the next morning. The Porter answered that the palace was built by the Lord of the hill for the relief and security of Pilgrims. He then proposed several necessary questions concerning the character and business of his new visitor, to all of which Christian returned satisfactory answers, and was, thereuj)on admitted into the palace. The Palace Beautiful, and the jirivi- and acquaintances, often made to those leges in it, is designed to show the who wish to entei' into a Christian benefit of being admitted into tlie visi- Churcli. Watchful, the Porter, shows ble Christian Church. The lions in the that proper caution should be exercised way represent the opposition of friends in their admission. Cliristlan entertained hy Frudence, Piety, and Charity. Being ad- mitted within the gate, Christian was affectionately received into the family of Prudence, Piety, and Charity. He was most hospit- ably entertained by these heavenly women, who renewed the inqui- ries concerning the motives of his journey, and the remarkable oc- currences which had attended it. They were so much ]3leased with the account he gave them, that they conceived a very high esteem for him, and afterward conversed with him in as friendly and un- reserved a manner as if they had been acquainted with him for many years. But Charity, the most lovely of them all, inquired if he was a married man or a single one; and being informed that he had a wife and four small children, tenderly inquired, "Why did you not bring them along with J'ou?" Christian, at this, wept, and said, "Oh, how willingly would I have done it!" but they were utterly unwilling to go with him. Whether it was owing to the bad example, and more prevailing influence of his neighbors, was unknown, but all his entreaties were in vain. W^hile they were dis- coursing together, the supper was made ready. It was indeed a "feast of fat things, and with wincthat was well refined." All the talk at the table was about the Lord of the Hill, what he had done for them, and why he did it. It also appeared that their Lord had been a great warrior, and had fought with and had slain him that THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM. 31 had the power of death ; they also dwelt much on the sufferings of their Lord, and the shedding of his own blood for their defense. Thus they discoursed together until a late hour, when Christian was conducted to a large upper chamber, called Peace, where he reposed on a bed of down until morning. The admission of Christian into the blematically set forth, where Christians, palace, with the kind recej^tion given by faith, feed on Christ, and call to rc- hira, and the profitable conversation niembrance his sufferings and the shed- which ensued, shows the advantage of ding of his blood for their salvation, communion of Saints. The administra- Peace of conscience folloAvs these man- tion of the Lord's Supper is also em- ifestations. The Rarities, or Museum. In the morning, after some conversation, his hostesses would not let Christian depart until they had shown him the varieties or curiosities of the place. They first took him into the study, where they showed him records of the greatest an- tiquity. They showed him first the pedigree of the Lord of the Hill, that he was the Son of the Ancient of Days, and that he was be- fore all things. Here was recorded the acts that he had done, and the names of many hundreds which he had taken into his service ; what they had done, how they had subdued kingdoms, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, out of weakness were made strong, and how they had put to flight armies of aliens. In another part of the house it was shown by the Records how willing their Lord was to receive all transi>Tessors into his favor. The next day they took him into the Armory, where he was shown all manner of weapons and defenses, furnished by the Lord of the Hill for the use of Pilgrims. They also, with other things, showed him the victorious rod of Moses, the hammer and nail with which Jael slew Sisera; also, the pitchers, trumpets, and lamps with which Gideon put to flight the armies of Midian, the sling and stone with which David slew Goliah, and the sword by which the Lord will kill the man of sin. Contemplation on the things of old, soul in cinulating the ilhistrious exam recorded in the AYord of God, tends to pies there exhibited, and to furnish in- increasc the ftiith, hope, love, and pa- structions for every good word and tience of Christians; and animates the work. The DelectaUe Mountains — Christian armed for his journey. "SVlicn Christian was about to pursue his journey, his kind entertainers took him up to the top of the palace, and bid him look south; 16 32 THE ClIllISTIAN PILGKIM, which he did, and at a great distance he saw a most pleasant mountainous country, beautiful with vroods, vineyards, fruits of all sorts; of flowers, also, with springs, fountains, and every thing de- sirable to behold. This, they told him, was ImmanueVs Land^ which was intended for a resting-place for Pilgrims, and when he arrived there he could almost, if not quite, discern the Gate of the Celes- tial City. Christian was now most anxious to go forward on his journey, but his kind hostesses, before he started, took him again into the Armory, where they harnessed him from head to foot. On his head they put the Helmet of Salvation, his feet were -shod Avith the preparation of the Gospel of Peace ; in his hand was the Sword of the Spirit, while over all was held the Shield of Faith. Then he began to go forward, but his friends would accompany him down to the foot of the hill, as it was somewhat dangerous in going down. The Delectable Mountains, as seen precepts. The Christian's armor is de- from a distance, represent those distinct scribed in Eph. vi: 13, etc. It is some- views of the privileges and consolations times hard, after having been favored with which Cliristians are sometimes with peculiar blessings, to go down into favored, while attending on the ordi- the Valley of Humiliation Avithout slip- nances of the Gospel, or obeying its ping into murmuring and discontent. Christian meets Apollyon. Christian having passed into the Valley of Humiliation, he soon espied a foul demon coming over the field to meet him, whose namse was Apollyon. Christian now began to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go back or stand his o;round. But considerins; he had no armor for his back, he con- eluded it woidd be safer to stand. So he went on, and Apollyon met him. I^ow this monster was liideous to behold ; he had scales like a fish, wings like a dragon, feet like a bear, and out of his bowels came fire and smoke. Disdainfully beholding Christian, he fiercely asked him whence he came, and where he was going. Christian replied that he came from the Citij of Destruction and was traveling to the Celestial City. "Indeed!" said Apollyon ; "then it is plain you are one of my subjects ; for all that country is mine, and I am the Lord of it, and were it not that I hope you will return to your allegiance, I would strike you to the ground. Come, now, and return, and I will give you every encouragement my kingdom will afford." "I despise both your service and wages," answered Christian, "and liave engaged myself to the Prince of Glory, whose service I like 1:)etter than yours." Apollyon now told him how many of the Prince's servants had come to a bad end ; how he vrould not protect THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM. 33 them when they got into danger. Besides this, Apollyon told him how unfaithful lie had been to his new master, how he had blun- dered into the filthy Slough of Despond. Think how sinfully he slept and lost his Roll, how he was shamefully terrified by a couple of superannuated old lions who were chained to the ground, and like a coward thought of going back ; and to sum up his whole character, he was one who had no higher motive than to gain the applause of fools like himself. The Valley of Humiliation, in which the work of destruction, fallen angels Christian mot his great foe, may signify endeavored, by various ways, to turn Bome great depression in a Cliristian's men from tlie path of duty. The genu- outward circumstances, of which the inc Christian sees no safety excei)t in enemy takes advantage. Apollj'on sig- facing his enemy, for he has ho ai'mor nifies the destroyer, and in carrying ua for his back. Christian figJds Apollyon. When Apollyon reproached Christian for his cowardice and short-comings in duty. Christian replied that it was all true, but his infirmities he brought with him out of his country ; but he was now sorry for them, and obtained pardon for them from his Prince. Apollyon, upon this, broke out into a great rage, saying, " I am an enemy to this Prince ; I hate his person, his laws, and people, and I am come out to stop you." Christian then told him to beware what he did, for he was in the king's highway. Apollyon then fiercely strode over the whole width of the road, swearing by his infernal den that he should go no further, and that there he would spill his soul. He then threw a flaming dart at Christian's breast, which he warded off by his shield. He now saw it was time for him to bestir himself, for Apollyon threw his burn- ing darts like hail at him, by which Christian, notwithstanding all his care to avoid it, was wounded in his head, his hand, and foot. This made Christian give a little back, for he began to grow weaker. Apollyon, perceiving this, began to close upon him, and after a dreadful struggle, threw Christian to the ground, and caused his sword to fly out of his hand. Then said the demon, " I am sure of thee now." But as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetch- ing his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good man, Christian nimbly reached out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, ^^ Ilcjolce not against me, mine cnemij! tvhen I fall I shall arise;'' and with that gave him a deadly thrust, which made him give back, as one that had received his mortal wound. Christian then made at him again, but Apollyon spread forth his dragon 34 THE CHRISTIAN" PILGKIM, I PETER, Chap, v: verse 8. EPHESJANS, Chap, vi: verse II. I TIMOTHY, Chap, vi : verse 12. I CORINTHI'NS, Chap, ix: verse 26. •2 CORINTHI'NS, Chap, x: verse 4. ^more'iiSequal'inatchrcaii liisaiy^ Vel iTA/KAwt Euist fisJit aai ArLg^d; Ijut yoii. see, Thei^liant jnaul^liaiifflius' Swof (l& SMeld rBgfeittaTceldmthtf.aJ)!:^^^ JAMES, Chap, iv: verse 7. HEBREWS, Chap, xi: verse 34. I TIMOTHY, Chap, xi: verse 3. REVELATIONS, Chap, xxi : verse 7. I CORINTHI'NS^ Chap. XV : verse 57. " But as God would have it, while Apollyon ivas fetching of his last hlow^ thereby to make a full end of this good man, Christian nimbly reached out his hand for his sivord, and caught it, saying, ^'Rejoice not against me, my enemy! ivhen I fall T shall arise," and with that gave him a deadly thrust, which made hiin give back as one that had received his mortal wound." THE CHRISTIAN PILGKIM. 35 wings, and lie saw him no more. Christian, upon this, gave thanks for his great deliverance, saying: "Great Beelzebub, the captain of the fiend, Pesigned my ruin; therefore to this end, He sent him harness'd out; and ho with rage That hellish Avas, did fiercely me engage! But blessed Michael helped me, and I, By dint of sword, did quickly make him fly; Therefore to him let me give lasting praise And thanks, and bless his holy name always." The fight between Christian and he passed, in the earlier part of his Apollyon denotes those severe trials Christian course. Satan is indeed the and temptations which the children of accuser of the brethren; but by hum- Grod experience from Satan, the enemy blii>g ourselves and pleading the merits of their soiils. and it is thought, by and grace of Christ, we can successfully some commentators, that Mr. Bunyan, meet all his accusations, and by using the author of the Pilgrim's Progress, the Shield of Faith and the Sword of here describes conflicts through which the Spirit, we will come off conquerors. Valleij of tlie Shadow of Deatli. AVhen Christian came to the end of the Valley of Humiliation, he found himself at the entrance of another, where he met a couple of men, who were returning from it in a violent hurry, with marks of terror in their countenances. Upon his inquiring the reason, they informed him that the vaHey before him was called the Valleij of the Shadow of Death, which was of pitchy darkness, where they beheld more fearfid sights, and heard more dolefid noises than they had ever met with before, and they thought themselves happy in escaping fromsiu-h a place. Christian, however, observing that the high road led directly through the place, determined to go forward. As far as the valley reached there was on the right hand a very deep ditch, into which the blind have led the blind, in all ages, and where both have miserably perished. On the left there was a very dangerous quagmire, into which king Da- vid once fell, and would have been smothered, had he not been pidled out. The pathway here is so exceeding narrow, that when one would avoid the dangers of one side, he would be apt to fall into the other ; besides these dangers, the pathway was so covered with darkness that when he woidd go forward he hardly knew where to set his foot. About the middle of the valley, he perceived the mouth of IIcll, from whence issued volumes of fire and smoke, accom})anied with hideous and doleful noises, so that he was forced to cry out in terror, 36 THE CHEISTIAN PILGRIM. " Lord, I beseech thee deliver my soul^ In this forlorn manner he was obliged to travel several miles, and coming to a place, he heard a company oi fiends approaching, and when it seemed they were within a few yards Christian cried out, in a most vehement voice, "/ will walk in the strength of the Lord God," when these demons gave back and came no further. In this perilous passage, Christian at times was so disordered in his mind that he did not know his own voice. Just as he got against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the wicked ones came behind him, and stepping up softl}' and whispering, suggested many grievous blasphemies, which he verily thought proceeded from his own mind. While Christian was trav- eling in this disconsolate manner, he thought he heard the voice of a man going before him, saying, " Though L ival/c through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear 7io evil, for thou art with me.'' This gave him some comfort. After awhile the day broke ; he then had a more distinct view of the dangers he had escaped. He also saw what a mercy it was to have the light of the sun in passing through the second part of the valley, which, if possible, was more dangerous than the other, for it was thickly set with snares, traps, nets, and pit- falls, so that one could hardly escape without having the light to guide his footsteps. The Yallej of the Shadow of Death sins and wickedness, which many fall seems to represent a time of great dis- into. Many conscientious persons, at courageracnt and distress of mind, aris- times, have suddenly suggested to their ing from various causes. The ditch on minds blasphemous thoughts, which the right hand may represent ei*ror in they abhor, and are much troubled, for principle, into which fall the blind (as they hardly know from whence they to spiritual truths blind guides). The come, ditch on the left may mean outward Christian passes the Giant's Cave and overtakes Faithful. Christian having passed safely through the valley, came to a kind of cave, where two Giants had dwelt for a long time, whose names were Pagan and Pope. Around their habitations were seen the mangled bodies and bones of men, some of whom were Pilgrims, who had gone this way. Of late years, these Giants, by age and other in- firmities, had grown so enfeebled that Pilgrims passed by them with little or no apprehension. After Christian had gone by this once dangerous spot, he came to a gentle eminence, from which he discovered Faithful before him u]ion his journey. As soon as he came within call, he cried out to him to stop. Faithful, not know- THE CHEISTIAN PILGEIM. ing who he was, kept on without stopping. Christian, somewhat nettled at this, exerted all his strength and ran by him. But while he was smiling in a rather vainglorious manner, because he had got the start of his brother, he stumbled and fell, and could not rise until Faithful came to his assistance. After this they went on lovingly together. The bloody remains and the bones us beware of vainglory in thinking we of Pilgrims at the Caves of the Giants, have got the start of our brother in show the bloody persecutions and re- the lieavenly race. There is danger, a Ijgious intolerance in times that have, fall may be a hand to humble, and we in a great measure, gone by. Let us may need the assistance of those whom hope that they may never return. Let we thought wo had excelled. Faithful relates his Experience. As Christian and Faithful traveled together, each related to the other what had happened during their pilgrimage. Faithful left the City of Destruction after Christian had commenced his journey to the Celestial City, and saw Pliable after he had left Christian in tho Slough of Despond. Contrary to his expectation, he was derided and despised as a turn-coat, by all his acquaintance; for even the worst of men have a contcm])t for those who desert their party from motives of cowardice. "When I was near the Wicket Gate," said Faithful, '' I was accosted by a •/ery tempting female, whose name was Wanton. She had such a flattering tongue and fascinating look, that she almost persuaded me to go home Avith her, but recollecting what was said of her in. an ancient writing, that ^Iler steps take hold on hell,^ I shut my eyes so that I should not be bewitched by her. Then she railed on me, and I went my way." "When I arrived at the foot of the Hill Difficulty," continued Faithful, " I met with an aged man, who asked me who I was, and where I was bound. I told him I was a Pilgrim, o()ino- to the Celes- tial City. lie then tried to make me go home with him. He said his name was Adam the first; he kept a house stored with dainties, and that he had three beautiful and attractive daughters, The Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Ejje, and the Pride of^Life, any one of whom I might marry if I would. At first I was inclined to go with him; but as I looked upon his forehead, I saw it written, 'Put off the old man with his deeds.' I then told him 1 W(nild not go near his house, and as I turned to go away, he gave me a deadly twitch back, which seemed to tear me asunder, and told me he would send one after me who would make my way bitter." 38 THS CHRISTIAN PILGEIM, Faithful and Moses. Just as Faithfiil got up the Hill Difficulty, to the place where Christian lost his Roll, he espied some one coming after him. "Soon as the man overtook me," said Faithful, "it was. but a word and a blow, for he knocked me down in an instant, and I lay as one dead. When I was a little recovered, I asked him why I was so badly used ? He answered, it was because of my se- cret inclining to Adam the First; and upon this, he gave me another blow on the breast, so that I lay helpless as before, and he would have doubtless made an end of me, had not a compassionate one passed by, and told him to forbear. This person, I afterward un- derstood, was the Prince of Glory himself." Apostates, as in the case of Pliable, The old Adam, the corrupt nature, often are despised as turn-coats by their proves a constant snare to many be- wicked associates. Fleshly tusts plead lievers, by its thirsting after the pleas- hard for indulgence, and promise much, ures, riches, honors, and pride of the Many have fallen by temptation and world. Moses, or the Law^ of God, plunged themselves into lasting shame shows no mercy to transgressions, even and misery. Sometimes there is no in thought only, and were it not for safety but in shutting our eym and the merciful interference of our lie- fleeing, like Joseph, from temptation, deemer, we should all perish. FaWiful meets with Discontent and Shame. "When I was in the Valley of Humiliation," continued Faithful, "I met with one Dis- content, who would have persuaded me to go back with him, as the valley was altogether without honor. He told me that to be in such a place would disoblige all my old friends, such as Pride, Ar- rogance, Self-Conceit, Worldly-Grlory, and others. I told him that all these, which he had named, might indeed claim a kindred to me, but since I became a Pilgrim, we had disowned each other, and before true and lasting honor there must be humility. Soon after I met with Shame, whom I found it difficidt to shake off. He ob- jected against ReHrjioii itself He said it was pitiful, low, and mean for a man to mincl Religion, to be associated with a set of gloomy and insipid creatures, who had no taste for the noble and refined pleasures of elevated society. He, moreover, objected to the base and low estate and condition of those that were chiefly the Pilgrims of the times in which they lived. Also, that it was undignified and unmanly to sit whining and mourning under a sermon, or to ask my neighbor's forgiveness for every little fault. Some believers are tempted to repine course of practical Christianity. A be- at the outward reproach, or ridicule, liever may, perhaps, have flattered liim- which sometimes attends a consistent self that by caution, uprightness, and THE CHRISTIAN PILGEIM. 39 benevolence, ho would insure respect and remember "that which is esteemed affection; but exjDerience and knowl- among men is often an abomintion in edge often constrain him to adopt and the sight of God;" and like his Divine avow sentiments, and associate with Master, the Christian must " despise the persons, that the world despises. Shame shame," and "seek that honor that is a powerful enemy to many Chris- cometh from God only." tians; but to gain the victory, one must The Pilgrims overtake Talkative. After Faithful had finished hi narrative, and as he proceeded onward with Christian, they per- ceived a man in the distance, who seemed to be traveling the same way as themselves. He was rather taller than the common size, and looked better at a distance than near at hand. Faithful com- ing up with him, opened the conversation by asking him if he was traveling to the heavenly country. Talkative, for that was his name, replied that he was, and hoped he would have the pleasure of his company. Faithful suggested that it would be well to spend much time in discoursing on profitable subjects. To this Talkative quickly assented, and added he was much gratified that he had found one who was desirous of conversing on noble, elevated, and dignified matters. After touching on a variety of topics, on which they both seemed perfectly agreed. Faithful proposed that he shoukl name some particuhir subject on which to found a lengthened and profita- ble conversation. " What will you," said Talkative. " I will talk of things heavenly, or things earthly; things moral, or things evan- gelical ; things sacred, or things profane ; things past, or things to come ; things foreign, or things at home ; things more essential, or things circumstantial ; provided all be done to our profit. Talkative is a correct portrait of who hold the same opinions, such char- man}' professors, whose religion con- acters may be expected to come out. sists principally in talk onl}'. In the "Such men appear r/6oi-e oM^r^, pushing present age, Avhen the preaching and themselves into notice;" but their pro- profession of any doctrine is attended fession, specious at a distance, will with little or no hazard, but insures not bear a near and strict iuvestiga- regard and favor from a numerous body tion. Talkative Exposed. Faithful was much taken with Talkative's conversation, and when he returned to Christian, he. expressed his admiration, at which Christian modestly smiled, saying, "This man, with whom you are so much taken, will beguile with his tongue many who know him not. I know him well; he is the son of one Sai/well ; he dwelt in Prating Row, and, notwithstanding his fine tongue, he is a worthless fellow. He appears best abroad, but 40 THE CHEISTIAN PILGEIM. ugly at home. He is for any company and for any talk. He can join with the wicked in their conversation as well as with the righteous ; religion hath no place in his heart or house ; all that he hath lies in his tongue, and his religion is to make a noise and gain favor with men. Ho talks of prayer, repentance, faith, and of the new birth ; but all he knows about them consists in talk only. Men that have any dealings with him say he is a hard customer, and will overreach them if he can ; and the people that know him say of him, "^ saint abroad hut a devil at homey In short, he is a stain and reproach to the cause of Religion." Sometimes Christian duty requires us but we should show that vain talkers to unmask hypocrites and undeceive the belong to the world, though numbers deluded. We must be cautious not to class them among religious people, to speak needlessly against any one, nor the injury of the cause, testify more than we know to be true; Faithful and Talkative. Christian having advised Faithful to enter into a discourse with Talkative about the power of religion, whether he feels it in his heart or conversation. Faithful then stepped forward again, and found Talkative very ready to converse with him on any subject he would name. Faithful proposed the question. How doth the grace of God discover itself in the heart of man? To this Talkative replied: "This is a good question, as I perceive our talk must be about the power of things. My answer, in short, is, iirst, where the grace of God is, it will cause a great outcry against sin; secondly," — "Hold," says Faithftd, " let us con- sider but one thing at a time. I should rather say, it shows it by inclining the heart to abhor its sin. Many can cry out against sin in the pulpit, yet can abide it well enough in the heart, house, and conversation. What is the second sign of grace in the heart?" To this question Talkative replied, "Great knowledge oi gospel myste- ries^ Faithful then told him that he might understand all myste- ries, speak with the tongue of angels, yet without love he was nothing ; that not talkers but doers are those that have the grace of God. He then proposed that Talkative should propound another token of Divine grace in the heart. This he declined, and told Faithful he might describe it if he wished; for he saw they could not agree. Faithful then told him that he that had the grace of God in his heart would show it by a holy walk and conversation, would hate all manner of sin in himself and others, being humble and prayerful. When he had concluded, he asked Talkative if his life THE CHEISTIAN PILGRIM.. 41 and conversation agreed with this, or did his religion stand in word, and not in deed and truth ? Talkative at first blushed, and said he did not expect such conversation, and did not consider himself bound to answer such questions, and as he seemed to be ready to take up reports and judge so rashly, he would hold no further conversation with him. "How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes! How bravely doth he speak ! How he presumes To drive down all before him! But so soon As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon That's past the full, into the wane he goes ; And so will all but he that heart-work knows." Those professors of religion "who the most severe denunciations against have a form of godliness Avithout its the wicked, supposing they do not ap- j)Ower, can converse in general terms ply to thcn\ ; but when the conversa- about religion, complain of the wick- tion is close, stinging their consciences, edness of the world, the blindness of they seek refuge in more liberal or Pharisees, and even sit unmoved under comfortable companions. Vanity Fair. After the Pilgrims had got out of the wilderness in which they had been traveling, they saw a city before them, which presented a dazzling but somewhat disorderly assemblage of splen- did houses, gilded temples, magnificent palaces, arches, columns, with a vast variety of buildings, dwellings, and market-places. The name of the city is Vanitij, and in the place there is a fair kept, all the year round, called Vanitf/ Fair. The place was named by a wise man, because everv tliinir in it, and everv thino* brouaht to be sold in it, was unsubstantial as Vanity. The place was founded almost six thousand years ago, there being pilgrims at that time who were walking to the Celestial City, as Christian and Faithful were; and Beelzebub, ApoUyon, and Legion, with their companions, perceiving that pilgrims woidd be obliged to pass through the town, contrivetl to set up a fair, for the sale of all sorts of vanity, which would last all the year, without intermission. For the ambitious, there were honors, preferments, splendid equipages, costly villas, and even mighty kingdoms and empires. For the sensual, there was a profusion of the richest wines, dainties of the most tempting kind, fashionable wives, husbands, and cliiklren, lascivious women, pimps, buffoons, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold, precious stones, and what not. There was also, at all times to be seen, jug- glers, cheats, games, plays, gamblers, fools, knaves, and rogues of every kind. The Prince of Glory once passed through this fair, and 42 THE CHRISTIAN PILGEIM. Beelzebub, knowing his noble origin, took him over the city, showed him all the wealth of the place, and oifered to give him all of it if he would condescend to pay him homage ; but the Prince disdained to purchase any thing at the fair. VanityFair is a representation of this "Vanity of Vanities." Our Lord and wicked world, whose profits, pleasures, Savior passed through all these temp- honors, and distinctions are transient tations without being drawn aside, and and frivolous. The Prince of Devils all who bear his name ought constantly sets up this fair to lure mankind to to pray, "0 Lord, turn off my eyes ruin. Solomon, after a complete ex- from beholding Vanity." periment, pronounced the whole to be The Pilgrims in Vanity Fair. When Christian and Faithful en- tered the fair, their singular dress and language drew a crowd of people about them. Some said they were fools ; some, that they were bedlamites ; others, that they were too outlandish to be abroad < One thing which particularly attracted attention, was the refusal of the pilgrims to purchase any of the wares kept at the fair. When offered any thing, they looked upward, signifying their trade and traffic was in Heaven ; and when they told them they only " bought the truth," they began to treat them roughly, some mocking, some speaking reproachfully, while some called upon others to smite them. Things, at last, were brought into such a disordered state, that word was sent to the great one of the fair, who quickly dispatched some of his most trusty friends to take the Pilgrims into an examination. When they were brought to their judges, they were asked whence they came, whither they went, and what they did there in such an unusual garb. The men told them that they were Pilgrims and strangers in the world, and that they were going to their own country, the Ileavenhj Jerusalem, and that they had given no just occasion to the men of the town, nor to the merchants, thus to abuse them, or to stop them on their journey. But their examiners, believing them to be deranged persons, or rather such as wished to create disturb- ances in the fair, took and beat them, besmeared their clothes with dirt, and then put them into a cage, that they might be a spectacle to all the men of the fair. Here they were insulted and derided. Christian and Faithful bore all these indignities with such meekness and patience that they won to their side several men of the fair. Genuine Christians, when appearing some disturbance, and the smaller the in character, among a large concourse number of those who, by their actions, of wicked or worldly people, collected words, or silence, protest against vice, for sinful jiur^ioses, generally produce the fiercer the opposition that will be THE CnmSTlAN PILGEIM. 43 excited. Those who walk after the Christian inusanc or outlandish for his commands of Christ are often deemed peculiarities, and are quite desirous precise and uncouth in the judgment that he should be held up to ridicule of those "who walk according to the and contempt, because he is not like course of this world;" they deem the unto them. Trial and Execution of Faithful. After Christian and his compan- ion had hiid some time in their prison, the 'latter was brought out to be tried. The name of the judge was Hate-good, and the indict- ment against Faithful, the prisoner at the bar, was, " that he was an enemy to the traffic and welfare of the city; that he had fo- mented riots and seditions among the inhabitants, had seduced numbers of them to embrace his own dangerous opinions, and de- sert the place of their nativity, in contempt of the law and govern- ment of their prince. The three witnesses against him were Envy. Superstition, and Pick-thanJc. Envy testified that the 2:)risoner was a bad man, regarding neither their laws and customs, but spent his time in poisoning the public mind with what he calls the ^;rwr?)9/gi' of faith and holiness, and by it condemning some of our most worthy citizens. Superstition said that he knew that he was a pestilent fellow, and he had heard him say that the religion of our place was worthless; that we were yet in our sins, and would finally be lost. PicJc-thank testified that he had known the prisoner for a long time, and had heard him speak frequently against their prince, had railed on him, and had spoken contemptuously of his honorable friends Mr. Carnal-delight, Mr. Luxurious, Esq., Desire of Vain Glory, his old friend Mr. Letchery, with many other respectable citizens. The judge now called upon the jury to decide the case, stating that they had heard the testimony of the respectable witnesses who had appeared against the prisoner; that he evidently had broken the laws of the country, and it was for them to say whether he was worthy of death. The jurors consisted of Messrs. Blind-man, No- good, Malice, Love-lust, Live-loose, Heady, High-mind, Enmity, Liar, Cruelty, Hate-light, and Implacable, who, every one, gave in his private verdict among themselves, and afterward unanimously con- cluded to bring Faithful guilty before the judge. Among them- selves, Mr. Blind-man, the foreman, said: "I clearly see this man is a heretic." No-good said, " Away with the fellow from the earth.'" Malice said, he ""hated the very looks of him." Love-lust said, he " could never endure him." Mr. Live-loose said he " was al- ways condemning." "Hang him!" said Heady. "A sorry scrub," said High-mind. " My heart riscth against him*" said Enmity. " He 44 THE CHRISTIAN PILGEIM. is a rogue," said Liar. " Hanging is too good for him," said Cru- elty. "Get him out of the way," said Hate-light; "let us bring him in guilty of death," which was quickly agreed upon by all the rest. Faithful was, accordingly, brought out into a public place, to do with him according to their law ; and, first, they scourged him ; then they lanced his flesh with their knives; after that they stoned him with stones, then pricked him with their swords, and, last of all, they burned him to ashes at the stake. Thus came Faithful to his end. Now, I saw that there stood behind the multitude a chariot and a couple of horses, waiting for Faithful, who, so soon as his ad- versaries had dispatched him, was taken up into it, and straightway was carried up through the clouds, with sound of a trumpet, the nearest way to the Celestial Gate. The actors who generally figure in gards '-'life and limb," has been mostly religious persecutions are here cxhib- taken away, yet the same spirit still pre- ited under their appropriate appella- vails in some places to a considerable tions; the names of the jurymen show extent. When the believer has done the opposcrs and nature of their oppo- his work, the wrath of man may beper- sition against faithful Christians. At mitted to expedite his removal to his the present day, by the providence of heavenly inheritance. Grod, the power of persecutors, as re- Chrlstian and Faithful overtake By-ends. Christian, by the means granted by Him who overrules all things, was enabled to escape from the prison, was accompanied on the way by one whose najne was Hopeful, (being so made by beholding the patient suiferings and constancy of the Pilgrims at the fair,) who joined himself to hini in a brotherly covenant, and told him that he would be his companion. After they had got out of the fair, they overtook a man by the name of Bij-emls. They asked him of what country he was, and how far he was going ? He replied that he came from Fair-speech^ and was going to the Celestial City, but did not tell them his name. On Christian's asking him who his relatives were in that place. By- ends replied, "Almost the whole town, and in particular the follow- ing prominent gentlemen of the place, viz.: Messrs. Tirrn-abouf, Time- server, Fair-speech (from whose ancestors the town derived its name). Smooth-man, Facing-both-ways, Any-thing, and the parson of the parish, the Rev. Mr. Two-tongues. My wife was Esq. Feignvfig's daughter, a well-bred lady. It is true we differ a little in religious matters from those of the stricter sort. First, we never strive against wind and tide; secondly, we like that religion which goes in silver THE CIIIIISTTAX PiLGRtM. 45 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, iii: verse 12. I PETER, Chap, iv: verse 4. I CORINTHI'NS, Chap, iv: verse 13. JOHN, Chap. XV : verses 18, 19. HEBREWS, C!iap. xl: verse 37. Ju(ag^;Witaesses , and JUiy-have instead] lVhefftWare;deaa-thoiat^^^ ACTS Chap, vii verse 59. REVELATION, Chap, xi : verse 13. REVELATION, Chap. XX : verse 4. MATTHEW, Chap. X : verse 39. REVELATION, Chap, xi: verse 10. "And last of all they burned him to ashes at the stake. Now I saio that there stood behind the multitude a chariot and a couple of horses, ivaiting for Faithful; icho, so soon as his adversaries had dispatched hiin, was taken up into it, and straightway icas carried through the clouds, with the sound of a trumpet, the nearest way to tjie Celestial Gate." 46 THE CHEISTIAN PILGEIM. slippers, and loves much to walk with him in the street, if the sun shines, and people applaud him." " The blood of the Martyrs is the seed their souls, and, at the same time, aim to of the Church," for the proper endurance glorify God and to be useful to their of sufferings in the Christian cause is neighbors; but hypocrites profess to be the most convincing kind of preaching, religious, in order to obtain friends, By-ends, and his numerous relatives, patrons, customers, or applause; those are descriptive of a large class of pro- follow the Lord habitually, whatever fessed Christians, who in every age, tribulations arise because of the Word ; and under various pretenses, suppose but these conceal or deny their profes- "that gain is godliness." The great sion, when, instead of gaining by it, difference between these persons and they are exj)osed to reproach or perse- true Christians, consists in these two cution. things; Christians seek the salvation of Christian detects By-ends. By-ends, when giving the names of his relatives, did not mention his own. Christian, therefore, asked him if it was not By-ends of Fair-speech. By-ends said it was not, but it was merely a nickname given by some who could not abide him, but he had to bear reproach as other good men had done before him. It is true I had always the luck to jump in my judgment with the present way of the times, whatever it was, and my chance was to get thereby. But if these things are cast upon me, let us count them a blessing. Christian then told him that he feared that the name properly belonged to him, and that if he wished to go with them, he would have to go against wind and tide, which he per- ceived was against his opinion ; and he also must own religion when in rags as well as when in his silver slippers, and stand by him when bound in irons as well as when he walketh the streets with applause. By-ends said that no one must lord it over his faith, and that he should never desert his own principles, as they were profit- able and harmless, and if he could not go with them he should as- sociate with others of more liberal sentiments. Christian and Hope- ful then went forward and left By-ends behind. When hypocritical professors are deeming themselves very forhinate and charged with their double-dealing and prudent in shifting about so as to avoid obvious crimes, they are quite apt to the cross and secure these worldly in- set it down as persecution, and class terests. The Apostle says, " From such themselves with that blessed company turn awaj'," and we should avoid every of whom "all manner of evil is spoken thing that would give countenance to falsely for the name of Christ." Thus such conduct, they endeavor to quiet their minds, By-ends^ Hold-the-world, Money-love, and Save-all. Christian and THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM. 47 Hopeful, as they looked back saw three men, who were coming up, readily joined company with By-ends. Their names were Hold-the- world, Money-love, and Save-all, and they were acquainted with By-ends, being, when they w^ere young, schoolmates, who were taught by one Mr. Gri^^eman, a schoolmaster in Love-gain, a large business place in the county of Coveting, in the Korth. This schoolmaster taught them the art of getting, either by violence, coz- enage, flattery, lying, or putting on the guise of religion ; and these four scholars attained so much the art of their master, that either of them could have kept such a school themselves. Money-love ob- serving Christian and Hopeful traveling before them, in the dis- tance, asked who they were. By-ends replied they were men no set in their notions that, let a man be ever so godly, yet if he did not fall in with them in all things, they thrust him out of their company. "That's bad," said Save-all, "but we read of those that are righteous overmuch, and condemn every body but themselves , but wherein did they differ from you?" " Why, in their headstrong manner ; they consider it their duty to rush on their journey in all weathers, while I am waiting for wind and tide ; they are hazarding all for Grod at a clap, while I am for taking all advantages to se- cure my life and estate ; they are for holding their notions, though every body is against them, but I am for religion in what and to far as the times and my safety will bear it." Hold-the-world said that " for his part, he liked religion best that will stand with the security of God's good blessings unto us. Abraham and Solomon grew rich in religion. And Job says that a good man 'shall lay up gold as dust.' " The conversation of these men shows the deceit of the human heai-t! These what is in the heart, ratlier than in the fallen creatures will, many times, quoto words, of many who attend the jDreach- the Scriptures in order to justify them- ing of the trospel, who expect to be selves in their extreme seltishness und thought to be Christian believers. O, idolatry. Bij-ends iwoposed a Question. By-ends, after remarking to his com- panions that, as they were all going on a pilgrimage, it would be well to have their minds engaged on something protitablc while or. their journey, and, in accof dance with this, would propound the foL lowing question : " Suppose a man, minister, or tradesman, etc.^ shoidd have an opportunity to get the good blessings of this life, by becoming exceedingly zealous on some points of religion, may he not use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right honest 16 48 THE CHEISTIAN PILGRIM. man?" Money-love, in giving his views on the question, said that *' whenever there was a Providential opening phiced before a minister, whereby he coukl get a large salary, he ought to embrace the op- portunity to get the good things of this life, asking no questions for conscience' sake. Besides, his desire after a large salary makes a more zealous preacher, and so a better man. In the next place, should he desert, or suppress some of his principles to serve the people, shows that he is of a self-denying temper, and so more fit for his ministerial office. As it regards a tradesman, suppose he is in depressed circumstances, yet by becoming religious he can get a rich wife, and more and far better customers to his store, all this, I think, can be lawfully done; for to become religious by any means is a virtue; neither is it unlawful to get a rich wife nor more cus- tomers to my shop; so, then, here a man gets a good wife, good customers, and good gain ; and all these by becoming religious, which is also good." Christianas ansiDer to the Question. Money-love's answer appearing so satisfactory and unansv/erable to By-ends and his companions, they got Hold-the-world to propose it to Christian and Hopeful, wdio were within call. When Christian heard the proposition, he at once replied: "Even a babe in religion can answer a thousand such questions. For if it be unlawful to follow Christ for loaves, how much more abominable is it to make him and religion a stalk- ing-horse to get and enjoy the world. We find no others but hyp- ocrites, devils, sorcerers, and the like, to be of this opinion. The hypocritical Pharisees made long prayers to get widows' houses ; Judas, the traitor, seems to have become religious for the bag, that he might be possessed of what was therein. Simon, the sorcerer, was also of this religion, for he would have the Holy Ghost, that he might have got money therewith. Therefore, Christian told them that to answer the question affirmatively, and approve of it as they had done, would be hypocritical, wicked, and heathenish, and their reward would be according to their works." At this, By-ends and his companions lagged behind. Pretensions to diligence, zeal, piety. Christians, and who advocate such a with some change or suppression of course as being prudent and comniend- doctrine, mercl}" to please men, in order able. The answer of Christian, though to obtain some worldly good, is an somewhat rough, shoAvs, from Bible ex- abomination which has often been prac- hibitions, to what these time-serving ticed by those who call themselves men belong. Hill Liicref Siher-mine^ Demas. Christian and Hopeful having THE CHEISTIAN PlLGillM. 49 passed a plain called Ease, came to the hill Lucre, where there was a silver mine, which some travelers, in passing this way, had turned aside to see; but going too near the mouth of the pit, the ground under them gave way, and they were killed by falling to the bot- tom, and some were so maimed that they never recovered the use of their limbs. Demas, a gentlemanlike man, was now at the mine inviting all travelers to turn aside a little, and he would show them something valuable. Hopeful seemed inclined to go, but Christian prevented him by telling hhii that many had lost their lives at the mine, and that the treasure found there had proved a snare, for it hindered many in their pilgrimage. Christian then called to Demas, and asked him if it was not dangerous to enter the mine ; to which he answered it was not much so, except to those who are careless; he however blushed as he spoke. When By-ends and his compan- ions came in sight of the mine, they immediately went over to Demas. Whether they fell in by looking over the brink, or whether they went down to dig, or whether they were smothered at the bottom by the damj^s which prevail here, is not certainly known, but they were never afterward seen. Then said Christian : "By-ends and silver Demas both agree; One calls, the other runs, that he may be A sharer in his lucre; so these two Take up in this world, and no further go." The hill Lucre, with the silver mine, believers are very liable to be seduced is a little out of the Pilgrim's path; and by the example and persuasions of false they "who will be rich fall into temp- professors, and to deviate Irom the di- lation and a snare" by accepting the rect path in order to obtain worldly offer of Demas. Many, by coveting advantages, b}^ means that many deem after money, "have erred from the faith fair and honorable. In this case, the and have pierced themselves through counsel and warnings of an experienced with many sorrows." Inexperienced companion are of the greatest moment. Lot's Wife, Bker of God. After the Pilgrims had passed the hill Lucre, they came to a place by the wayside, where stood an, old monument, which attracted their attention, for it had the ap- pearance of a woman who had been suddenly petrified by super- natural power while standing upright like a pillar. By a close ex- amination they found an inscription upon her forehead, which read "Remember Lot's wife." "Ah, my brother!" said Christian to Faithful, " this is a good lesson to us, after the invitation Demas gave us to go over to the silver mine, for had we gone over we might have been made a spectacle to those who come after us ; and 50 THE CHRISTIAN PILGEIM. it is to be observed that this woman escaped one judgment, for she fell not by tlie destruction of Sodom; yet she was destroyed by another, as we see she is turned into a piUar of salt." After this they went on their way to a pleasant river, which King David called "the River of God;" but John, "the River of the Water of Life." As their way lay on its banks, they walked along with great delight; they drank also of th'e water of the river, which was pleasant and enlivening to their weary spirits. On both sides of the river were green trees for all manner of fruit, and the leaves were used to cure or prevent all manner of disease. There were also meadows adorned with lilies, where they might lie down and sleep in safety. It is strange that men who profess to may be purchased by it, to the honoi believe the Bible can so confidently of Christ, and obedience to his com- attempt to reconcile the love of the mandments? The Holy Spirit, the world with the service of Clod, when source of life, holiness, and joy, is rep- there are so many instructions, warn- resented by the "River of God," even ings, and examples given in the Bible that " River of the water of Life, clear which show the fotal consequences of as crystal, proceeding out of the throne so doing. If Lot's wife, who merely of God and that of the Lamb." There hankered after the possessions she left are seasons in the Christian's life, when behind in Sodom, and turned back with he enjoys, in a large measure, sweet the design of returning, was made a communion with God, finds all his monument of the Lord's displeasure, maladies healed by faith in the divine what must be the doom of those pro- Savior, and anticipates with unspeak- fessed Christians who habitually prefer able delight the glory that shall be re- worldly gain, or the indulgence that vealed. Bij-path Meadows. After awhile the Pilgrims were obliged to turn from the banks of the river, where they had taken much sat- isfaction, and their road now became so rough that they were some- what discouraged. As they passed along, they saw on their left hand a meadow, called By-path Meadow, where there was a path on the other side of the fence, which appeared to run by the side of that in which they were traveling. Christian, therefore, proposed to Hopeful that they should go over the fence, which they both did, and found the road much easier to their feet. A little before them they espied a man walking as they did, by the name of Vain Confidence. Calling after him, they asked him whither that way led? He said, "To the Celestial Gate." At this they felt encour- aged to go on. In a short time night came on, and it grew very dark, so that they could not see the direction in which they were going. Yain Confidence, not seeing his way, fell into a deep pit. THE CHEIvSTIAN PILGRIM. 51 PROVERBS, Chap, iii: verse 5. EPHESIANS, Chap, v: verse 15. PROVERBS, Chap, xiv: verse 12. I THESS. Chap, v: verse 22. I JOHN, Chap, iii : verse 20. Win seek-its ease ^lut Ohaiowth^kfreslv Do therebjplun^ ^Aenuelyes new s;ii Sagacity gives an account of Christian. Some time after the dream I had of Christian, the Pilgrim, while in a den, I passed that way again. I took up my lodging in a wood about a mile oif the j)lace. As I slept, I dreamed again. I saw in my dream, an aged gentle- man. Sagacity by name, come by where I was, and as we were going to the same place, I resolved to go with him. As we were passing the City of Destruction, Sagacity informed me of Christian, the Pilgrim, who once resided there, but was induced to go on a pilgrimage up to the higher regions. When he left the city, his neighbors ran after him, called him a fool, and tried to have him come back ; but it all was of no avail, as Christian pressed forward and upward. After many trials, difficulties, and dangers, he finally entered into that region where all trouble is unknown. He now walks in white, and has a crown of gold. He walks and talks with the King of the country, who has adopted him as a son, and who has jDrepared a mansion for his dwelling. It is now said that his former neighbors, by whom he was so much persecuted, now com- mend him, and wish they had gone with him. The first part of the Pilgrim's Prog- is -weU worthy of attention. It often ress was written in Bedford jail, as has happens when the real Christian de- been noted; the second, several years parts this life, that the men of the afterward, most probably at his home world who stigmatized him when living, in Elstow, a village about one mile will, after he has departed, speak well from Bedford, which he designates as of him, and lament their own folly in a "lodging in the wood." The first is not living a Christian life, the most complete, but the second part (69) 70 THE CHRISTIAN PILGEIM. Christian's Wife and Children become Pilgrims, Christiana, the wife of Christian (so named after she had commenced her pilgrimage), after her husband had gone over the River, and she could hear of him no more, many heavy thoughts began to work in her mind. The remembrance of her unkind and ungodly carriage toward her dearest friend — how she had hardened her heart against all the loving entreaties to her and her sons to go with him on his pil- grimage — cost her many tears. She spoke to her children: "Sons, we are undone. I have sinned away your father ; I would not go with him myself, and I also hindered you. I thought your father foolish; I now see that he was wise, and has escaped the snares of death." Christiana and her children now all wept and bewailed their condition. In a dream, Christiana saw her husband in a place of bliss among immortals, praising Grod for his mercy. After she had arisen, one knocked at the door, whose name was Secret, who brought a letter to her from her husband's King. She was informed that the Merciful One was a God ready to forgive, and he invited her to come, as did her husband, through trials and afflictions, and she would be received with joy. Christiana now called her children together, and told them of her dream and letter. At this they were all overjoyed, and with their mother began to prepare for the jour- ney to the Celestial City. It is evident that the author was in- need not hesitate to recieve it as a di- tent on encouraging pious persons to vine monition. " The secret of the persevere in using all moans for the Lord is with them that fear him." spiritual good of their children, even The intimations given by Secret seem when they see no immediate effect from to represent the silent teachings of the their efforts. God may speak in adream, Holy Spirit, by which the true mean- as of old, and if the intimation bo ing of the Scriptures is discovered to scriptural and the effect salutary, we man, Mrs. Timorous and her Companions. As Christiana was about starts ing on her journey, she was called on by two of her neighbors, Mrs. Timorous, and a young maiden named Mercy. Mrs. Timorous, when Christiana told her that she was going on the same journey which her departed husband had gone, implored her not to think of such madness. " Consider," says she, " what diificulties and troubles your husband had while on his dangerous journey ; and if he, though a man, was so hard put to it, what can you, a poor woman, do? Think, also, of your four sweet children ; how can they travel such a journey, and what wdll become of them?" Christiana still determined to go on the journey. Mrs. Timorous began to revile THE CHEISTIAN PILGKIM. 71 her, and told Mercy to leave such a foolish person, as she intended to do. Mercy, however, declined ; for what Christiana had said had an effect upon her mind, and she determined to accompany her on her pilgrimage. When Mrs. Timorous arrived at her home, she sent for some of her neighbors, among whom was Mrs. Bats-eyes, Mrs. Inconsiderate, Mrs. Light-mind, and Mrs. Know-nothing. All these women joined m reviling Christiana. Mrs. Bats-eyes called her a blind and foolish .woman ; Mrs. Inconsiderate said she should be glad when she was gone, and Mrs. Light-mind did not wish to hear any thing about religious matters, but told what merry times she had at Madam Wanton's. The conversation of Christiana with to influence sinners to choose the good her neighbors was attended with differ- part, though many reject the truth, ent results. It excited the revilings The names of the companions of Mrs. and scorn of Mrs. Timorous and her Timorous indicates what kind of per- companions, while they were so blessed sons generally despise and revile those to Mercy as to induce hei; to set out that fear God and seek the salvation of on the heavenly journey. This gives their souls, encouragement to use all proper means Slough of Des_pond and the Wicket Gate. When Christiana, her sons, and Mercy came to the Slough of Despond, they found it rather worse than it was in Christian's time. This was owing to the unskillfulness of those who i^retended to be the King's laborers on the highway. By looking well to their steps they made out to stagger over. The Pilgrims now went up to the Wicket Gate; Christiana knocked at the door, and, for a time, it appeared as if she could not be admitted. It seemed as if the great dog had been aroused, and barked fiercely at them. The keeper of the Gate, finding out who it was that knocked at the door, and what was her object in coming, kindly let Christiana and her four sons within, and then shut up the Gate. Poor Mercy, being without, trembled, and cried, fearing she was rejected. Christiana now began to inter- cede for her, and Mercy began to knock at the Gate herself. The keeper, learning who she was, opened the Gate, but Mercy had fal- len down in a swoon. When he took her by the hand she arose, and told the keeper she was afraid she would not be admitted, as she had not a special invitation from the King, as Christiana had. The keeper told her not to fear, and kindly admitted her within. It has often happened that many of make what was difficult still more so, those who profess to preach the Gospel by their teachings and plausible speC' 72 THE CHEISTIAN" PILGEIM. ulations. These often bewilder the lent opposition from the powers of dark- mind and obstruct the progress of those ness, who, like savage beasts, may growi who are journeying heaven ward. While or bark to frighten away those seeking earnestly praying or knocking at the salvation. Gate, then they may exjject more vio- The Pilgrims^ passage from the Wicket Gate to the Interpreter's House. After being kindly treated by the keeper of the Wicket Grate, Chris- tiana and her companions went on their way. As they were trar- eling by a garden on the other side of the wall, which separated them from it, some of its fruit-trees shot their branches over it, on which were tempting fruit. The boys, although warned by their mother, picked off some and eat it. This afterward caused their sickness for a time. Christiana and Mercy, when near this place, met two ill-favored men, who came upon their pathway. They en- deavored to entice them by fair promises. Christiana rejected their offers with indignation. The men still continued their approaches, until both the women cried out for help. Their cries were heard by the keeper of the Wicket Grate, who sent one named Reliever to their assistance. As he came up, the villains made their escape over the wall into the Gfarden. The Pilgrims now continued their journey until they came to the house of the Interpreter, where Christian was so profitably entertained when on his journey to the Celestial City. The evil one has a garden in this should be shunned as poison. The world, in which is grown fruit such as worldly men who made proposals to the lust of the flesh, the lust of the Christiana and Mercy, however attract- eye, of which the young and inexpe- ive, were really ill-favored to the gra- rienced are tempted to partake. Par- cious mind. These seducers are too ents should use all means to restrain often successful. When their proposals their children from those pleasures are rejected with abhorrence and earnest "which war against the soul." This prayer, the Lord will send Eeliever to fruit grows in Beelzebub's garden, and their aid, and drive off the intruders. The Interpreter's House. Muck-rake, Christiana and her com-, pany were admitted to the Interpreter's house, after their names had been announced by Innocent, a maiden, the door-keeper. The inmates of the Interpreter's house were overjoyed that the wife of Christian, and her children and Mercy, had become Pilgrims, and bid them all welcome to their Master's house. The Interpreter took them into his significant rooms, and showed them what Christian, Christiana's husband had seen before. He then took them into a room where was "a man that could look no way but downward, THE CIIEISTIAX PILGEIM. 73 with a muck-rake in his hand ; there stood also one over his head, with a Celestial Crown in his hand, and proifered him that Crown for his muck-rake ; hue the man did neither look up, nor regard, but rake to himself the straws, the small sticks, and the dust of the floor." "This," said the Interpreter, "is a man of this world ; his muck- rake shows his carnal mind, and, whereas, thou seest him rather give heed to rake up straws and sticks and the dust of the floor, than to do what he savs that calls to him from above, with the Ce- lestial Crown in his hand; it is to show that heaven is but a fable to some, and that things here are counted the only things substan- tial. N'ow, whereas it was also shewed thee that the man could look no way but downward; it is to let thee know that earthly things, when they are with power upon men's minds, quite carry away their hearts from God." Sights in the Litoyrcter's House. The next thing shown to the com- pany was the spider "that is in King's palaces;" then the hen and her chickens ; and when they drank at the trough, they were bid to observe how they lifted up their heads and eyes toward heaven, also how the hen had four calls for her brood. They were taken into the slaughter-house, and bid to observe how patiently the sheep suftered death from the hands of the butcher. They then were led into the garden, and bid look at the flowers, and how they differed in stature, quality, and color. They next entered a field which had been sown with wheat and corn, but produced neither. On their return, they saw a pretty robin with a great spider in his mouth ; then they went into the garden again, where they saw a tree with green leaves, the trunk being rotten inside. They then had a supper, with music. By the hen and her chickens, we are was worthless which would be eithei- taught to look upward and thank God burnt up or trodden under foot. It for the mercies we receive; by the dif- shows that profession merely will not ferent calls of the hen, the interest of avail, if we produce no fruit. The our Heavenly Father in our welflvre. pretty robin that was seen with a great We are taught patience and resignation spider in its mouth, is an emblem of by the sheep, and by the flowers in the some who profess a great love for gen- garden that there are different degrees nine Christians and all good things, among God's people, but all can flourish but when by themselves, as the robin harmoniously together. The grain-field gobbles up spiders, they change their which produced nothing but straw, diet, and swallow down sin like Avater. Great-heart The Cross. Simple, Sloth, and Presumption. When the Pilgrims were leaving the Interpreter's house, he called for a 74 THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM. PROVERBS, Chap, xxii : verse 3. PROVERBS, Chap, i: verse 22. MATTHEW, Chap. XXV : verse 26. PROVERBS, Chap, xxii : verse 13. HEBREWS, Chap, vi : verse 12. ^.ificog- iip;cause holyways they did decline^ ^ySee liete tooliow ihe Child doth. j>Yay y* mau^ ^s AiA-«re^.'CrQWStejmy.\enting and walking in the path of gain their affections, t If by imitating ife and salvation. It is all important Dorcas, a young woman loses a suitor, that the young should be governed by she is delivered from a dangerous ac- the instructions of Prudence, Piety, and quaintance. Charity. Pious young women are some- Matthew's Sickness. Eve's Apple. Jacobus Ladder. The Anchor. Abraham. While staying at the Beautiful House, Matthew was taken sick and was much prostrated by pain in his bowels. A skillful phy- THE CHEISTIAN PILGRIM. 7r sician was called in and found he had a griping sickness, occasioned by eating some of Beelzebub's fruit, which grew near the Wicket Gate.. He was obliged to take cleansing and bitter medicines to save his life. After the Pilgrims had staid a month or more at this place they signified their wish to be going forward ; the whole family were called together to give thanks to their King for sending them such guests. According to their custom they took them to a closet to show them one of the apples that Eve eat of; they next showed them Jacob's Ladder, with angels ascending it; the next was a golden anchor, and lastly the mount on which Abraham offered up Isaac, with the altar, the wood, the fire and the knife. The case of Matthew shows the evil pointment which followed, are subjects effects of sin. It will pinch and gripe very interesting and instructive, and the conscience and make the heart of affecting to the pious mind. Jacob's a gracious soul sick, and nothing but Ladder, with passing upon it, shows the the atoning blood of Christ applied to connection between earth and heaven — the soul can effect a cure. The nature how ministering spirits are sent to of the first transgression, the insinua- minister to the heirs of salvation. The tions of the tempter, the motives which golden Anchor of Hope shows how we induced our first parents to eat the are kept steadfast in the Faith, forbidden fruit, and the dreadful disap- Valley of Humiliation. Shepherd Boy and Mercy. Being now joined by Great-heart, the Pilgrims began to go down the hill into the Val- ley of Humiliation. Mr. Great-heart said they need not be afraid of this valley, for here is nothing to hurt us, unless we procure it our- selves. It was indeed a fruitful place as any in the earth, and some have wished they might travel such a road all the way to their Father's house. As they were passing along they saw a boy feeding his father's sheep. The boy was in very mean clothes, but of a fresh and well-favored countenance, and, as he sat by himself, he sung. He that is down, needs fear no fall; He that is low, no pride ; He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide. Of this valley it is said that our Lord formerly had his country- house, and he loved much to be here. Angels also have visited this place. Mercy, the companion of Christiana, said this valley suited her, and that she felt as well in it as she did in any part of the journey. 78 THE CHEISTIAN PILGEIM. When Christians are in depressed cir- enjoys more happiness than any earthly cumstances and have a realizing sense king on his throne. Mercy and others of their sins and imperfections, they of like spirit love to be in this .va'ley are led to look unto God who "gives out of the turmoil of the world, where grace to the humble." When they feel they can enjoy communion with him meek and humble, they travel the who chose retirement and poverty and heavenly way in peace and safety. The was despised and rejected of men. Shepherd's boy who possesses this spirit Valleij of the Shadoio of Death. Giant Maul After the Pilgrims had passed the valley of Humiliation, they came upon the borders o1 the Shadow of Death, a place strangely haunted by evil things. Thej' were alarmed by fiends, heard horrible noises, and the rushing to and fro of their enemies. Sometimes their pathway was hidden by a great mist or so darkened by the smoke of the pit. Snares wei-e also laid to entangle their feet so that they might stumble intc/ the depths below. But having G-reat-heart for a conductor they passed safely forward. When they came among the snares they saw one Heedless who had been cast into the ditch on the left hand, and way much bruised and mangled. Many have been killed hereabouts, many foolishly venturous as to come here without a guide. As they drew near the end of the way, they came to a cav§, and by it stood Maul, a gia"tit, with a great club, who attempted to stop the com- pany from passing. He entered into a controversy with Great-heart, and told him he was stealing women and children and carrying them to a strange country. From words they came to blows. The contest was fierce, and for a time seemed doubtful, but Great-heart finally succeeded in striking down the giant and taking ofi^ his head, which was fastened to a pillar erected near by. Some Christians have been tempted ing circumspectly he will deliver them in a peculiar manner, exclaiming with from their troubles, while those who David, " The sorrows of death com- are heedless pass on to destruction, passed me and the pains of hell got Giant Maul may represent a person or hold upon me ;" their minds may be persons of power and influence, who confused and they hardly know what oppose and ridicule the Gospel. Greats to do; this is indeed the "Shadow of heart, however, by using the sword of Death." By calling on God, and walk- the Spirit, comes off conqueror. Old Honest}/, and Fearing, the Pilgrim. After the company had passed safely through the valley, they came upon an oak by the road where they found an old man asleep, whom they knew to be a Pil- grim, by the clothes he had on. As Great-heart awakened him, he arose and stood on his guard, demanding who they were. When he THE CHEISTIAN PILGKIM. 79 had learnt who the company were, Honest was much rejoiced and saluted them all by name. He told them that he came from the town of Stiipiditii, which lay about four degrees beyond the City of Destruction. He said, blushing, that he was named Honest, and he wished his nature might agree with his name. As they traveled the conversation turned upon one Mr. Fearing, who was known to Honest, and who had been guided by Mr. Great-heart, on the road to the Celestial City. He was rather troublesome to his compan- ions ; he was easily frightened, and was always afraid he Avould not be able to reach the Celestial Citv. It is said that he lay oroanins: at the Slough of Despond for more than a month, not daring to venture the. passage, until one morning, in a bright sunshine, he was enabled to make the passage. When he came to the Wicket Gate it was long before he would venture to knock. When he came to the hill Difficult}^, he made no stick at that nor the lions. The valley of Humiliation was pleasant to him ; his only trouble was about his acceptance at last. When he got to the river his confi- dence was increased, and he was admitted into the City. Honest dwelt in the town of Stu- apprehensions, and spend too much pidity, a place fur from the sun, more time in unavailing complaints, and fail, cold and senseless than other places, perhaps, to embrace the promises for Honest was sound in the faith and es- fear their faith may not be genuine, teemed a perfect character, but he. Such persons, though diffident, have conscious of his imperfections, was no thoughts of turning back to the ashamed that he was no more worthy world, but will press forward with of his high reputation. Fearing may more courage through greater difficul- ropresent those Cliristians who are re- ties and dangers tlian many who make tarded in their progress by discouraging louder professions. An account of Self-will. As the Pilgrims went on with their con- versation old Mr. Honest gave an account of one Self-will, who pre- tended to be a Pilgrim. He was quite obstinate, or self-willed, in his opinions, caring but little for men or argument, or example. He held that he mi^ht follow the vices as well as the virtues of Pil- grims, and that if he did both he would certainly be saved. He said David and Solomon, God's beloved, practised certain things, therefore he could do it. He said that Sarah and other godly wives in Egypt and Rahab, lied, and Jacob got his inheritance in a way of guile and dissimulation, therefore he could do it too, provided he had faith in the promises of the Lord and lived as well as Jacob, and the others Inentioned, 18 80 THE CHUISTIAN PILGEIM. Self-will may represent a certain class up the sin of God's people;" tliey may of Antinomiana, who hold that faith talk of the liberty of the Gospel, but is every thing, but M'orA's, little or noth- "they themselves are the servants of ing. Such persons may be said to "eat corruption." TJie Pilgrims entertained at Gains' Inn. Slay-good and Feehle-miTid. The PilgTiins, on their journey, came to an inn kept by Gains, who entertained travelers to the Celestial City. Here Mercy was mar* ried to Matthew ; also James, another of Christiana's sons, to Phebe, the daughter of Gains. The whole company were entertained here for more than a month, and were much strengthened and encour aged. Great-heart, while here, being informed that one Slay-good, a giant, lived near by, w^as determined to get him out of the way. Accordingly the whole company, having armed themselves, went to the cave where the giant resided, and found that he had sei'zed one Feeble-mind, and was in the act of robbing him. Great-heart, after a great struggle, succeeded in disarming the giant, and then took off his head and brought it to the inn. Feeble-mind was born in the towm of Uncertain, and being a sickly man, was easily taken. He was, however, determined on going to the Celestial City — to run when he could, when he could not run, to go, and to creep when he could not go. The refreshment and encouragement professors by fines and imprisonments, from the experimental and affection- to the hazard of their lives or souls, ate conversation with Christian friends, Feeble-mind may represent those who who use hospitality to each other with- have a cotistitutional timidity and low- out grudging, seems here intended; also ness of spirits, arising from a feeble the institution of marriage aniong young frame and sickness, unfitting them for Christians, provided it be done accord- hard and perilous services. This state ing to the rule of God's Word. Slny- of mind is often connected with re- good may denote certain persons who markable perseverance in the ways of formerly persecuted and intimidated God. Vanity Fair. River of the Water of Lifa. As the Pilgrims left the inn, Mr. Ready-to-halt, with his crutches in his hand, came along and joined the company. Their next stojiping was at the house Mnason, in Vanity Fair, who kept a place for the entertainment of Pilgrims who were passing through on their journey. The people were now much more moderate than when Christian and Faithful visited their city. The blood of Faithful was such a load upon the inhabitants, they have been ashamed to burn any more. Indeed, in many parts of the town religion is counted honorable. After leaving this place, the company came to the river on this side of THE CHRISTIAN PILGKIM. 81 the Delectable Mountains. Here were fine trees growing, on both sides of the river, whose leaves, if taken inwardly, are good against surfeits ; where the meadows are green all the year long, and where they might lie down safely. By the river side, there were cotes and folds for sheep, a house for the nourishing and bringing up of those lambs, the babes of those that go on prilgrimages. Also, there was here One that was intrusted with them, who could have compassion, and that could gather these lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom. The persecutions which formerly were Water of Life, with the bcautifal so prevalent iu the world (culled here meadows on its banks, with its j^laces Vanity Fair) have been greatly mode- of shelter for the flocks, we are taught rated since John Bunyan's time, and in the importance of having our children many places have entirely ceased, brought under the nurture and admo- Under the emblem of the River of the nition of the Lord. Giant Despair Killed. Douhting Castle Destroyed. When the com- pany had reached By-path Meadow, near Doubting Castle, the men concluded to make an attempt to kill Giant Despair and demolish his castle. When they came up to the castle gate and knocked for admission, the Giant and his wife Diffidence were aroused. Learn- ing their intentions, the Giant armed himself for a mortal combat, having a great club in his hand. Then they fought for their lives, and Giant Despair was brought down to the ground ; but Great- heart was his death. He pierced him imder the fifth rib, and then smote the head of Giant Despair from off his shouklers, and set it upon a pole by the highway side, right over against the pillar that Christian erected for a caution to Pilgrims that came after, to take heed of entering into his grounds. Now, old Mr. Honest cut down the Giantess at one blow. They now fell to demolishing Doubting Castle, in which they found Mr. Despondency and his daughter Much- afraid^ confined and almost starved. As they were honest persons, they were taken into the Pilgrim company. Great-heart now went back to the road, took the head of the Giant and set it on a pole by the wayside, for a warning to those who come afterward. On this occasion the whole company had a time of rejoicing, and even Mr. Ileady-to-halt made out to dance by the help of one of his crutches. It was probably intended, in this part and prayers of such believers as are of the Allegory, to show that the labors strong in the faith, may be useful in of faithful ministers, with the converse recovering the fallen and relieving 82 THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM, PSALM xciv : verse 4. EZEKIEL, Chap. XXXV : verses 5, 6. 2C0RINTHI'NS, Chap, i: verse 8. JOB, Chap, iii : verse 25. PSALM Ixix: verse 2. /And the %aiit dispair hath, lost his liea4= Sia can remuldtlie Cas1Ie,iiiake"treiuam,eJ ^ive ayainci MICAH, Chap, vii : verse 8. 2C0mNTHrNS, Chap. X : verse 4. ISAIAH, Chap, li: verse 9. PSALM Ixviii: verse 3. PSALM cl: verse 4. Then they fought for their Jives, and Giant Despair teas brought down to the ground ; but Great-heart was his death. He pierced him under the fifth rib, and then sviote the head of Giant Despair from off of his shoulders, and set it up on a pole by the highway side, right over against the pillar that Christian erected for a caution to Pilgrims that came after, to take heed of entering into his grounds. THE ClIEISTIAN PILGEI^M. 83 those who are desponding. Great heart, those whom he has imprisoned, and de- by the SAvord.ot' the Spirit, may even stroy the dungeon in which they were strike down Giant Despair, release confined. Mounts Innocence and Charity. When they came to the Delect- able jNIountains, the Shepherds who resided there, as was their cus- tom, showed the Pilgrims the rarities of the j^lace. Among these were Mounics Innocence and Charity, on the first of which they saw a man clothed in white, and two men, Prejudice and Ill-will, contin- ually casting dirt upon him. But, notwithstanding all their efforts, it would in a little time fall off again, and his garment would look as clear as if no dirt had been cast at them ; on being asked the meaning of this, the Shepherd's replied, " This man is Godly-man, and his garment shows the innocency of his life. Those that throw dirt, hate him; as you see that the dirt will not stick upon his gar- ment, so will it be with those who lead an innocent life. Whoever would make such men dirty, their labor is vain, for Grod in a little time will make their innocence appear." The Shepherd's then took the company to Mount Charity, where they saw a man with a bundle of cloth, out of which he cut garments for the poor, yet his bundle or roll of cloth was never the less. " This," said the Shepherds, "is to show you that he who has a heart to give to the poor shall never want wherewithal." These emblems are sufficiently ex- have committed. This maj' have been plained, and may, in general, be consid- from the want of circumspection in ered as correct. But there may be "avoiding the appearance of evil." cases where godly men have been du- Such cases are exceptions to the gene- rably suspected of crimes they never ral rule. Yaliant-for-trutK s Battle and Victory. When the Pilgrims arrived at the place where Little-fiiith was formerly robbed, they saw a man named Valiant-for-truth, standing with his sword drawn and his face bloody. Being requested to give an account, he said, '"As I was on my way, three men beset me and propounded three things: Whether I would become one of them, or go back from whence I came, or die upon the place. To the first, I answered I had been a true man for a long time, I could not now associate with thieves. Then they demanded my answer to the second, so I told them that I found the place from whence I came so unprofitable and unsuitable, that I for- sook it for this way. Thev then asked mv answer to the third. I told them my life was too valuable to lightly give it away ; there it is, at your peril you touch me. ^"hen the three, Wild-head, Inconsiderate, 84 THE CHEISTIAN PILGEIIvI. and Pragmatic, drew upon me, and I also drew my Jerusalem blade upon them. So we fell to it, and continued tiie strife for three hours, when hearing of or seeing your advance, they immediately fled. The names of these three men desig- they assault professors with specious nate their character; they represent reasonings, caviling objections, confi- certain loild enthusiasts, who, not hav- dent assertions, proud boastings, bitter ing duly consi^iere^/ any religious subject, reproaches, and rash judgments; they pragmatically or officiously mtrndQ them- try to draw them over to their party, Helves in the way of religious persons, or terrify Avith the fears of damnation to perplex their minds and persuade if they continue in their present course, them that, unless they adopt their no- The word of God, the "true Jerusalem tions, they can not be saved. An un- blade," wielded in faith and prayer, governable imagination, destitution of will be the means of our gaining the sober reflection, and a dogmatical spirit victory, characterize these enemies of the truth; The Pilgrims in the Pnchanted Ground. When Great-heart and his company had got to the Enchanted Ground, they found it was grown over with briars and thorns, except here and there was a pleasant arbor, in which if a man sit or sleeps, some say that it is doubtful whether he Avill ever rise or wake again in this world. After they had passed a little way, they were surrounded by a great mist and darkness, so that they could hardly see each other, and for some time they were obliged to feel for each other, for they walked not by sight. Their way also was very wearisome, through dirt and mud ; at length they came to a beautiful arbor called the SlothfuVs Friend, where there were soft couches for the weary to rest. By the warnings and advice of Mr. Great-heart, their conductor, they passed this place without stopping. At length they came to a spot where one is apt to lose his way. Being dark, their guide was put to a stand; he however had a tinder-box, struck a light, and examined the map which he carried with him; this pointed out tjie right way so plainly that they could not mistake it. By this means they avoided all dangerous places, and went through these grounds in safety. The Enchanted Ground may repre- gled by the cares of this life so as "to sent the circumstances in which those choke the Word and render it unfruit- believers are placed who are deeply ful." The more soothing the scene the engaged in business, and obliged to more danger. The allegory shows the spend much time among worldly peo- importance of having pious ministers pie. Many professors are enchanted who understand God's Word, and are by worldly advantages, and fall asleep able to point out in it, as by a map, to wake no more. Others are entan- the way of salvation. THE CHRISTIAN PILGEIM. 85 The Sleepers in the Arbor. When the Pilgrims were in the En- chanted G-round, they Ccame to an arbor by the highway side, in which hay two men, Heedless and Too-bold. Those men, being wearied with their journey, sat down to rest themselves, and so went fast to sleep. Some of the Pilgrims, seeing their dangerous condition, called to them by their names, but .they made no answer. The guide then tried to disturb their slumbers. As he shook them, one of the sleepers said, "I will pay you when I take my money;" "And I will fight you as long as I can hold my sword in my hand," said the other. At that one of the children laughed. Christiana, on in- quiring of the guide what these things meant, was informed that these men talked in their sleep, being a little disturbed but not half awake. They gave very incoherent answers, and their words were not governed by faith or reason. Theso men, Heedless and Too-bold, rep- various excuses for their conduct, and resent those who take up a jirofession when they fall asleep in the arbor of of the Gospel in a heedless manner, and worldly prosperity, nothing can awaken proceed in a bold and overbearing con- them. AVhile in this state, they will, as fidence, and may long maintain a form it were, talk in their sleep about religion, of godliness, but after a time become in so incoherent a manner as to excite weary even of this, and will gradually the laughter of children, while they fall back into the world, retaining noth- who understand their case will bewail ing of their religion except some dis- their deplorable condition, torted doctrinal notions. They find Standfast and Madam Bubble. !N'ear the end of the Enchanted Ground, the Pilgrims found one Standfast on his knees, earnestly engaged in prayer. Being a Pilgrim of the right stamp, they soon made his acquaintance. In giving an account of his experience, he stated that while he was on the Enchanted Ground, a lady, some- what in years, but stately, handsome, and beautifully attired, with a great purse of gold by her side, presented herself before me, and offered to make me great and happy if I would be ruled by her. I rejected her offers once and twice, but she still smiled, and said she was mistress of the world, and that men were made hap]>y by her. When I asked her name, she told me it was Madam Babble. This set me further from her, but she still followed me with her enticements. I then called on Ilim who had promised to help me: as I was on my knees you came up, when this fascinating woman went away. The case of Standfast shows us that their hearts to yield to worldly propo- wiicn believers feel the in-openaity of sals, it renders them jealous of them* 86 THE CHUISTIAN PILGEIM. selves, excices them to earnest prayer Pride of Life — are personified by Mad- to him who is able to preserve from the am Bubble, whose fair promises are power of temptation. The world's three hollow and unsubstantial, Vikc bubbles, chief temptations — the Lust of the which indeed look beautiful for a short Flesh, the Lust of the Eye, and the time, but vanish when touched. The Land of Beulah. The Pilgrims now drew near the confines of the Celestial City, for they had got to the land of Beulah, where the sun shines night and day. Here the Pilgrims could rest in safety, for this country was set apart for their rest and refreshment. All the orchards and vineyards belonged to the King of the Celes- tial City, therefore they were licensed to take any thing they wished. While here they heard the sounds of bells and trumpets, which were so melodious that they coidd not sleep ; they tired not, but were re- freshed by this music from the Celestial City. They also heard the voices of them that walked the streets. The Pilgrims when they arose would walk to and fro, but how were their eyes now filled with celestial visions! In this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing, and tasted nothing that was offensive, except it was the water of the river over which they were to go; they thought it tasted somewhat bitter, but it proved sweet when it was down. In this place a record was kept of the nanj^es of the Pilgrims of old, and a history of what they had done. The ebbings and flowing of the river were noted ; sometimes in a manner it had been dry for some Pilgrims, while it had overflowed its banks for others. In this place the children of the town would go into the King's gardens and gather flowers for the Pilgrims, to show their affection. The land of Beulah may represent triumphantly are often reported and the happy state of those who live in witnessed. The thoughts of death may places favored by many lively Chris- indeed seem bitter to nature, but the tians united in heart and judgment, thoughts of the joy and glory that fol- and where instances of persons dying lows causes the soul to rejoice. Christiana goes over the Biver. While the Pilgrims were resting and enjoying themselves in the Land of Beulah, a messenger from the Celestial City came to Christiana and informed her that the Lord of the city expected to have her to appear in his presence in the course of ten days. He also gave her a token that he was a true messenger. When Cliristiana saw that her time was come, she called for Mr. Great-heart, the guide, and all her companions. She called for her children and gave them her blessing, and told them that she was glad that they had kept their garments so white. She called for THE CnniSTIAN PILGRIM, JOHN, romises. There is no doubt but there are many Christians who, without, any want of humility, can say with St. Paul, "I have fought a good fight, I have kei:)t the faith." It is also ob- servable that while the Pilgrims here are represented as leaving their infirm- ities behind, they take their graces along with them, and that "their works would follow them." THE END. m m a I" £ i 4 THE BIBLE LOOKING GLASS: REFLECTOR, COMPANION AND GUIDE TO THE GREAT TRUTHS OF THE SACRED SCRIPTURES, AND ILLUSTRATING THE DIVERSITIES OF HUMAN CHARACTER, AND THE QUALITIES OF THE HUMAN HEART. Consisting cp Six Books in two PakIS. PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED BY OBJECT TEACHING PICTURES Showing the pain and misery resulting from vice, and the PEACE ajtd happiness arising from virtue. By JOHN W. BARBER and OTHERS. PART B. Christian Similitudes— Sunday Book of Pleasing and Cotnforting Literature^ Grays Elegy Illustrated. BRADLEY, GARRETSON & CO., PHILADELPHIA, No. 66 NORTH FOURTH STREET, WILLIAM GARRETSON & CO., GALESBURG, ill., COLUMBUS, OHIO, NASHVILLE, TtNN., HOUSTON, TEXAS, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL, 1S75. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year mdccclxvi, By JOHN W. BARBER, In the Clerk's OfSce of the District Court of Connecticut. BIBLE LOOKING GLASS. A FEW WORDS FROM THE PUBLISHER. Mr. J. "W". Barber, the originator of this work, has now nearly arrived at the age of three-score years and ten, and has spent the most of his life at tlie joint business of an historical engraver and author. Being plain and unjiretendino- in his habits and manners, his pi'oductions, whether as engraver or author, are in the same style. His earlier works, of the pictorial kind, are valuable as showing the costume of the common people of the preceding generation — that of our fath- ers — a class among whom he was born, and with whom he has always associated himself, having no aspirations to be considered otherwise than as one of them. His emblematic drawings possess peculiar merits: plain, direct to the point, with as little circumlocution as possible, boldly executed, and often attractive by their quaintness. Elegance is not attempted; but they possess the high merit of en- forcing vital truths. , Some thirty years since, Mr. B. traveled over his native State of Connecticut in a little one-horse wagon, visiting eveiy part, taking views in pencil of cities, villages, and all places of interest, collecting, at the same time, statistics and other matters of interest for publication. The result was a work entitled ''Con- necticut Historical Collections." Each town was separately described, and a great variety of subjects in the past or present received a place, and the work may be considered as a sort of scrap-book for every thing relative to the history of the State and its inhabitants. The drawings of villages and objects of interest are honestly given as they appeared at the time when they were drawn. This work was succeeded by others on the same plan, by Mr. B. and others, on Massa- chusetts, New York, Xew Jersey, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Ohio, etc. Next to having portraits of one's progenitors, is a picture of his birth-place, the school-house in which he was introduced to the world of letters, and the church in which, when a child, he was taught the solemn truths of time, death, and eternity. By means of the above publications, these objects of interest have been preserved to multitudes of people, in an enduring form, probably to genera- tions 3^et to come. Mr. B.'s work on Connecticut is the most popular book which has, as yet, been issued on the history of that State, or probably will be for some time to come. It was his intention, when ho commenced it, to jiroduce a work interesting to all classes. In a note or advertisement to the edition of 185G-7, he says "this object has been accomi">lished; and it is a. source of gratification that it has met with so favorable a reception, not only from the aged and intelligent part of the community, but it is also read with deep interest by the younger portion. Such men as Noah Webster, Chancellor Kent, Professor Silliman, and others, have publicly expressed their sense of gratification and approbation of his historical works; and, it may be added, that those of a strictly religious kind have been received with much favor by the religious public." (iii) IV • IXTEODUCTORY. The work now in the hands of the reader is, in several respects, an original production. This is particularly true of the introduction of numerous scriptural texts, illustrated by one pictorial representation. These texts, like the marginal references in our family Bibles, will be found of much value and instruction in causing the scriptures to be searched to learn therir bearing on the subjects in- troduced. How admirably they are adapted as Sunday lessons to children, to teach them the great truths of the "Word of God ! The four emblematical books may be considered as a collection of Pictorial Sermons, in which the whole body of the principles of Evangelical Christianity, and qualities of human nature, are taught and enforced upon the mind with a power that more words alone can not convey. From his early years, Mr. B. appears to have been strongly impressed with religious subjects, and his sympathies have ever been with the poor and the op- pressed. The three prominent books which ho read during his childhood were the Bible, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, and the New England Primer. Believ- ing in the equality of human rights, as advocated in the doctrines of Christianity, he always opposed every thing to the contrary, in whatever form it was pre- sented. This led him, when quite a young man, to remonstrate with some of the leading members of the Church with which he was connected, against the negro pew, in a house ei-ected for worship, as totally opposed to all Christian principles. As he grew older, this feeling increased. On the 10th of September, 1831, he was one of the unpopular four who lifted up their right hands as a protest against the denunciatory resolutions, passed at an indignant town-meeting of the citizens of New Haven, against the establishment of a literary institution in that place for the education of blacks. » Mr. B. still resides in New Haven, and, since the death of several near relatives of his family, has lived rather of a retired and secluded life. His daughter Eliza- beth wrote the poetic lines under each cut in the Christian Similitudes, with the exception of the last three. She accompanied her husband. Captain Barrett, on voyage to China, died on board his ship, of cholera, and was buried in the China Sea, in 1863. Since her death, a volume of her poems has been published. Several years since, while on a historical tour through the United States, Mr. B., when in Georgia, was prostrated by a fever occasioned, he supposes, by ex- posures in the marshes in Florida. He was brought so low that his life was not expected. "While in this state, he felt an earnest desire to live long enough to finish his book of Similitudes, which he had in contemplation. His prayer was answered, and by the publishing of the present volume, one leading object in his life is accomplished. He evidently has faith in God, and also faith in himself that he has a mission to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the manner used in these pages. He is fully of the opinion that his emblematic works will live long after his departure, in accordance with a prophetic declai'ation made con- INTRODUCTORY. cerning him when an infant in his cradle, the purport of which was that he would become an author whose productions would have an influence on mankind. Evidence that his religious works have already been a blessing to the world, 'ias been abundantly given. One of his large and early religious emblematical religious engravings, in the hands of our American missionaries, it has been said, was the main instrumentality for the conversion of the Queen of the Sand- wich Islands. The book of Emblems, which has, by the hands of our traveling agents, been widely circulated among "the plain people," has been the means of converting many to religion. TTe here quote from two letters lately received from them. They are but specimens of numberless others, not preserved, of a similar import, received from time to time. One writes from Parma Center, New York: "An old lady, bereft of her husband, sent from an adjoining county, asking me if I would not send her my copy of the Emblems, as she felt very lonely of late. So I sent it to her, and she after- ward sent me back word that she had receiyed great comfort from reading the work." Another writes from West Bend, Wisconsin : "I have a good library, but that little book fills a vacant place, and supplies a long-felt want. I can preach better since I have read it." Mr. B. has now arrived at an age when, in the ordinary course of nature, he will soon be removed beyond the reach of human praise or censure. He, indeed, now cares but little what others may say about him, provided ho is in Uie right. If he possesses any pride, it is on account of his being a descendant of the Puri- tans, the true descendants of whom " Go where duty leads, against a world in arms." The above considerations will, it is believed, remove all the ordinary objections against publishing one's personal history while he is living. There is an uni- versal wish to know something about an author whose works we are perusing. To gratify this curiosity, which can not be condemned, we, from a long and intimate acquaintance, feel qualified to give the information desired. 19 CHKISTIAN SIMILITUDES: BEING A SERIES Off EMBLEMATIC ExNGRAVINGS, WITH WRITTEN EXPLANATIONS, MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS, AND RELIGIOUS REFLECTIONS, DESIGNED TO ILLUSTRATE DIVINE TRUTH, IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CARDINAL PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIANITY. "/ have used similitudes.^* IIosea, xii : 10. BY JOHN W. BARBER, AUTHOR OF SEVEIIAL HISTORICAL AND U F, MG lO D S W OKK 8 . BRADLEY, GARRETSON & CO., PHILADELPHIA, No. 66 NORTH FOURTH STREET, WILLIAM GARRETSON & CO., GALESBURG, ILL,, COLUMBUS, OHIO, NASHVILLE, TENN., HOUSTON, TEXAS, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. '875. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year mdccclxvx. By JOHN W. BARBER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticnt. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year mdccclx. By JOHN W. BARBER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticut. CHRISTIAN SIMJUTUDES. CONTENTS OF CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. »»« TAOn A Vision or Picture of Human Life 7 The Unregenerate Heart 10 Peace 13 Time brings up Truth 16 The Memory of Righteousness 19 The Memory of Wickedness 22 Heathenism 25 Faith, Hope, and Love 30 Imagination, Philosophy, and Faith 34 Fear and Hope 37 The Spiritual Telegraph 39 The Parent Eagle 42 The Natural Man 44 The Awakened Sinner 47 The Pardoned Sinner 49 The Sanctified Christian 52 Sunlight and Darkness 55 Justice 58 The Unexpected Deliverer 61 Ignis-futuus, or False Light 64 The Backslider 68 The Trials of Faith 70 Four Fatal Steps 73 The Concealed Attack 76 Cross Providences 79 Mutual Dependence 82 The Eock of Refuge 85 Ignorance and False Philosophy 88 The Incomprehensible , 91 The Christian Church 94 The Synagogue of Satan , 97 Tlie Safe Bridge 100 (5) 6 CONTENTS, PAG8 The Unsafe Bridge 103 Seven Upward Steps 106 Seven Downward Steps 109 Death's Doings 112 The Lying Demon 116 The Heavenly Shepherd 119 The Three Lives 121 Terror of Sin — Joy of Salvation 125 End of Human Greatness 127 The Future of the Wicked 130 The Future of the Eighteous 133 The Hermit, or the Ways of Providence J ustificd 135 Christian Siimilitudes. PSALM xc: verse 10. PSALM xxxix: verse 5. JOB, Chap, v: verse 7. JOB, Chap. XXX : verse 23. JAMES, Chap, iv: verse 1. JOB, Chap, iv : verse 20. PSALM xxxvii: verse 2. PSALM xliv: verse 10, A VISION, OR PICTURE OF IIUMAiN' LIFE. tlis days are determined, the number of his months are icith thee, thou hast appointed his bounds that he can not pass. Job xiv : 5. For what is your life ? it is even a vapor, that appeareth for a little time, and then .vanisheth away. James iv: 14. Vanity and vexation of spirit. Ecd. i : 14. [ Varied/rom the vision of Mirza, by Addison."] Behold the multitude upon their march, Across the bridge upheld by many an arch ; All ranks, all ages, all degrees we find, All ills, all joys, attendant on mankind ; Onward they press, but see, where'er they go, What numbers fall into the depths below. Here battle hurls its thousands from the brink, And nuuibcra more in hidden pitfalla sink: Bubbles, of rainbow tints, float into view; Their ranks grow thin while they the mists pur- Bold adamantine rocks rise high around, [sue; Along whose base a narrow path is found: Fair mansions shine afar on smiling plains. Happy is he who entrance there obtains, And dark his doom, of sadness and of woe. Who finds uo passage from those realms below. C7) 8 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. On a certain day, devoted to religious purposes, I retired to an elevated situa- tion, in a mountainous district, for medi- tation and prayer. While there, I fell into a profound contemplation on the vanity of human life ; and, passing from one thought to another, surely, said I, man's existence here seems but a myste- rious shadow, and his life a troublous dream. While musing on this subject, I fell into a dream, or vision. Methought an angelic being stood before me, with a look of compassion and affability, and bade me follow him. This heavenly being then led me to the highest pinnacle of the rock, and placing me on the top of it, cast thy eyes eastward, said he, and tell me what thou seest. I see, said I, a deep valley, and a great tide of water flowing through it. The valley that thou seest, said he, is this lower world, called by some the vale of miser}^, and the tide of water which thou seest is part of the great tide of eternity. AYhat is the reason, said I, that the tide I see rises out of a thick mist, at one end, and again loses itself in a thick mist at the other? What thou seest, said he, is that portion of eternity called time, measured out by the sun, and reaching from the. beginning of the world to its consummation. Examine now, said he, this sea which is bounded at both ends, and tell me what thou discoverest in it. I see a bridge, said I, standing in the midst of the tide. The bridge thou soest, said he, is human life ; consider it attentively. Upon a more leisurely survey, I found that it consisted of threescore and ten entire arches, with several broken arches, which, added to those that were entire, made up the number of about an hun- dred. As I was counting the arches, my conductor told me that this bridge con- sisted, at the first, of one thousand arches, but that a great flood swept away the rest, and left the bridge in the ruinous condition I now beheld it; but tell me further, said he, what thou discoverest on it. I see multitudes of people passing over it, said I, and a black cloud hanging on the end of it. As I looked more attentively, I saw several passengers dropping through the bridije into the great tide flowing under- neath it ; and, upon further examination, perceived that there were innumerable trap-doors that lay concealed in the bridge, which the passengers no sooner trod upon than they fell through them into the tide, and instantly disappeared. These pitfalls were set very thick at the entrance of the bridge, so that throngs of human beings no sooner broke through the cloud but many of them fell into them. They grew thinner toward the middle, but multiplied and lay closer to- gether toward tne arches that were entire. There were indeed some persons, but their number was very small, that con- tinued a kind of hobbling march on the broken arches, but fell through one after another, being quite tired and spent after so long a walk. I observed, also, that several persons, about the middle of the bridge, had become so weary of their journey that they refused to traverse the bridge any longer, but threw themselves over its side into the dark waters below. I passed some time in the contempla- tion of the wonderful scene before me, and the great variety of objects which it presented. My heart was quite moved and filled with melancholy, to see sev- eral dropping unexpectedly in the midst of mirth and jollity, and catching at every thing that stood by to save them- selves. Multitudes were very busy in catching at bubbles which glittered in their eyes, and danced before them ; but often when they thought themselves in reach of them, their footing gave way, and they sunk into the depths below. Some were looking up toward the heavens in a thoughtful posture, and in the midst of a speculation, stumbled and fell out of sight. CHRISTIAN" SIMILITUDES, About the middle of the bridge I observed bodies of armed men running to and fro, and thrustin£c large numbers of their fellows on the trap-doors and pitfalls, which did not seem to lie in their way, and which they might have escaped, had they not been thus forced upon them. I observed, also, that he who was the most expert, and who succeeded in casting the largest number into the tide below, was held in the greatest estimation by his fellows, and liis name was proclaimed from one end of the bridge to the other. While viewing these melancholy scenes, I perceived flights of birds hovering about the bridge, and settling upon it from time to time; some of these were of beautiful plumage, but most of them were of the unclean kind, such as vultures, ravens, cormorants, etc. Not com- prehending this, I looked up to my conductor for information. These, said he, are malice, envy, avarice, superstition, despair, love, with the like passions and cares that infest human life. I here fetched a deep sigh. Alas, said I, man was made in vain ! how he is given away to misery and mortality I tortured in life, and swallowed up in death 1 My heavenly con- ductor being moved with compassion toward me, bid me quit so uncomfortable a prospect. Look no more, said he, on man in the first stage of his existence, in his setting out for eternity; but cast thy eye into that thick mist into which the tide bears the several genera- tions of mortals that fall into it. I directed my sight as I was ordered, some- what upward, and (whether or no the good conductor strengthened it with any supernatu- ral force, or dissipated part of the mist that was before too thick for the eye to penetrate) I saw the valley opened at one end, and spread- ing forth into an immense ocean, that had a high rock of adamant running through the midst of it, and dividing it into two equal parts. Clouds and pitch darkness appeared on the left of the adamantine wall, while on the right, amid the bright waters, were discovered innuTnerable islands, having beautiful mansions, delicious fruits, and flowers of every hue. I perceived that all the wicked, when they fell from the bridge, pa.ssed into the abode of dark- ness, while the righteous were conducted to regions of light and glory. I could see per-sons dressed in glorious liabite, with crowns and garlands upon their heads. passing among the trees, lying down by the side of fountains, or resting on beds of flowers. I also heard the voice of harpers, " liarping upon their harps." Ever and anon I heard heavenly music from myriad voices round, rising like the voice of many waters, soft, solemn, and sweet. The light of the glory of the Eternal beamed into every habitation and into every heart The joy of every one wa» full, for God himself dwelt among them, and all sorrow and sighing had forever fled away. My soul was filled with gladness at the dis- covery of such a delightful and heavenly scene, and 1 wished myself in that bles.sed region. I wished for the wings of an eagle, that I might fly away to those happy mansions, but my conductor told me there was no passage to them, except through the gates of death, that I saw every moment upon the bridge. The islands, said he, that lie so fresh and green before thee, studding every-where the vast expanse of bright waters, are more than thou canst number. The mansions that thou seest are imperishable, they endure foreve** ; the trees and bowers, clad in living green, decay not; the bright and beautiful flowers wither not, but bloom in an eternal spring. These heavenly places are prepared for the abode of the good of all ages and nations, after death ; each of the numberless islands and mansions are adapted precisely to the wants and capacity of those who inhabit them. There are degrees in human virtue ; some ex- cel others, and will be rewarded accordingly. All the righteous will be hapjiy, but there are different degrees, as there will be in the punish- ment of the wicked. As one star differcth from another in glory, so will it be hereafter with the souls of the righteous. Are not the rewards of the righteous worth contending for ? said my conductor. Is death to be feared, that conveys thee to so happy an existence ? I gazed with inexpressible pleasure on these happy i.slands. Beholding some new manifestation of the divine presence and glory, I sank overpowered with ecstasy. Recovering, my conductor had left me; the vision liad de- parted. I was alone, and instead of the vast flowing tide, the arched bridge, the multitude passing over it, and the happy islands, 1 was in the midst of' a familiar grove; and instead of heavenly and ravishing music, I heard, in the distance, the "church-going bell" calling the villagers to their evening worship. 10 CHllISTIAN SIMILITUDES. GENESIS, Chap, vi: verse 5. PSALM xiv: verse 1. JOB, Chap. XV : verse 16. EPHESIAXS, Chap, ii: verse 3. PSALM Ixviii: verse 3. JOB, Chap. XXI ; verse 14, 1 JOHN, Chap, v: verse 19. EOMANS, Chap. 1: verses 29-32. THE UNREGENERATE HEART. The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked. Jere- miah XVII : 9. Filled with all unrighteousness. Rom. i : 29. The habitation of devils. Rev. xviii : 2. For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, etc. Matt, xv : 19. See here, the heart of sinful man ! it swarms With unclean beasts, the vices' various forms; The flaunting Peacock, well his pride portrays, And Folly by the Ape's unmeaning ways : Deceit, the Serpent's wily arts disclose. And Murder's form, the foul Hyena shows. Ill-will and anger in the Tiger live, And fierce Revenge, that knows not to forgive ; Fraud aptly shows the weeping Crocodile, Which draws its victim by its piteous wile: The servile Toad, the type of Covetousness, The Goat, the emblem of Licentiousness ; [show, The groveling Swine, the gluttonous man must Who sinks his nature, meanest brute below; Blindness of mind, the darkness of the soul, AVe find depicted in the groping Mole ; All these, the emblems of the soul are seen, A cage of beasts and reptiles, base, unclean. The engraving is an emblematic rep- resentation of the heart of man in the sight of God while in his nnrcgenerate state. It is filled with living and hate- ful creatures, who make it their abode, and are represented as breaking out from its surface on every side. From the number, variety, and character of tho beasts, reptiles, etc., exhibited, it may be said to be like fallen Babylon, "tho habitation of devils, the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird." "Whatever infidels may say respecting CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES, U the innocence of mankind," says a cele- brated divine, "he that made man, and that best knows what he has made, gives a different account of him." He informs us "that the heart of man," of all man- kind, of every man born into the world, "is desperately wicked," and that it is "deceitful above all things ;" so that we may well ask, "Who can know it?" In the i^ieture Pride and Folly are rep- resented by the Peacock and Ape, seen as rising from the unregenerate heart. Thus was it fii'st in heaven itself, by "Lucifer, son of the morning," till then, undoubtedly, "one of the first, if not the first archangel." "Thou saidst, I will sit upon the side of the north — I will be like the Most High." Here was pride — here was the true origin of evil. Hence came the inexhaustible flood of evils upon the lower AA^orld. When Satan had once transfused his own self-will and pride into the parents of mankind, all manner of wickedness soon rushed in ; all ungodliness and unrighteousness, shooting out into crimes of every kind, soon filled the earth with all manner of abominations. Folly may oftentimes have the semblance of wisdom, but it is in appearance only. So it is with the face of an ape, which has a resemblance to that of a human being, but upon a closer inspection he is found to be noth- ing but a beast. Deceit and Murder arc among the first crimes which appear in the human heart. The Serpent, ihe form and emblem of the first deceiver of mankind, is considered as an emblem of deceit; and the Hyena, who, wild and savage in appearance, tears open graves and feasts upon the bodies of the dead, may represent the murderer. Deceit is universally preva- lent among mankind. The celebrated John AVeslc}', in 1733, made the follow- ing entry in his memorandum book: "I OM this day thirty years old ; and till this day, I know not that I have met with one person of that age, except in my father's house, who did not use guile, more or less." The devil is stated to be a mur- derer from the beginning," "a liar," and his children, or those over whom he has influence, have the spirit within. Anger and lll-icill, represented by a growling tiger, have been defined by an ancient philosopher, "a sense of injury received, with a desire of revenge." This passion seems inherent in the hu- man heart, where is the human being Avho has not been guilty of its indul- gence ? Revenge is the offspring of anger and stops at nothing that is violent or wicked. The histories of all ages are full of the tragical outrages prompted by this diabolical feeling. See how it glows in the breast of the Indian savage. Neither time nor distance can assuage his thirst for revenge. He pursues his victim through forests, floods, and fields, by night and day, in cold and in heat, if so that he can imbrue his hands in the blood of his enemy. A certain Italian having disarmed his enemy, and got him completely into his power, told him there was no possible way for him to escape death but by re- nouncing and cursing Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world. The miserable and timorous wretch, to preserve his life, comjilied. With a demoniacal smile, the other exclaimed, "I will now have my full revenge — I will destroy thy soul and body at one bloAV ! " and then struck him dead on the spot. Fraud, the vice so common among the wicked, lias been often represented by the Crocodile, as this creature, it is said, in order to bring men or beasts within reacli of its ra- pacious jaws, utters forth a piteous and dis- tressful cry. Some say that it devours what- ever it catches, all but the head, and then weeps because there is no more to satisfy its ravenous appetite. However this may be, "Crocodile's tears" have become a proverb. A covetous and earthly-minded disposition is sometimes repre- sented by tlie figure of the toad, who gets its living close to the eartli. Licentiousness and Gluttony, (represented by a Goat and Hog,) are termed beastly vices, a.s by tiiein man is assimilated and degraded to the level of a beasL Guilt is represented by 12 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. the Bat, a creature partly partaking of the na- tare of the beast, and partly that of a bird. It seeks obscurity, and generally moves or Hies about during the shades of night, and appears to have a peculiar aversion to the light of the sun. Blindness, moral or spiritual, is repre- sented by the Mole. The eyes of this animal ate extremely small, and perfectly hid in its fur, and it is said by naturalists that it has the ])ower of withdrawing or exerting them at pleasure. He that is spiritually blind, becomes BO by his own choice, and, like the Mole, has the power to withdraw liis eyesight from objects he does not like to contemplate. The wisest of heathens have borne testimony to the universal depravity of the human heart. It was indeed their common opinion that there was a time when men in general were virtuous and happy; this they called the golden age. This belief, which pervaded almost all nations, probably had its origin in the account given by inspiration of our first parents in the garden of 'Eden. But it was generally believed that this happy age had expired long ago, and men are now living in the midst of the iron age, at the commencement of which, the poet says: "Immediately broke in. With a full tide, all wickedness and sin, Shame, truth, fidelity, swift fled away, And cursed thirst of gold bore unresisted sway." In the days of Noah, deceit, anger, and mur- der stalked abroad. The earth became a field of blood. Revenge, cruelty, ambition, with all sorts of injustice, every species of public and .private wrongs, were universally diflfused. Hatred, envy, malice, blood-thirstiness, and falsehood, rode triumphant, till the Creator, looking down from heaven upon an incorrigi- ble race, swept them from the face of the earth. But how little were the following gen- erations improved by the severe judgment 1 Those that lived after the flood do not appear to have been much, if any, better than those who lived before it. Wickedness, in all its forms, again soon overspread the earth, in every nation, city, and family. Hence, it is a melancholy truth, that (excepting where the Spirit of God has made a difference) all man- kifld, now, as well as those four thousand years since, "have corrupted their ways be- fore the Lord ; and every imagination of the thoughts of the human heart is evil, only evil, «,nd that continually." From it springs every -species of vice and wickedness : hence, sin ■against God, our neighbors, and ourselves. Against God^^forgetfulness and contempt of God, of his name, liis worship, his word, his ordinances; atheism on the one hand, and idol- atry on the other; love of the world, desires of the flesh, pride of life, covetousness, etc. The love of honor that cometh from men ; the love of the creature more than the Creator. The unregenerate heart is such an inexhaus- tible source of ungodliness and unrighteous- ness, deeply and strongly rooted in the soul, that nothing less than Almighty grace can re- move it. Hence arises a harvest of evils, among which is, "That foul monster. War, that we meet, [ation; Lays deep the work, the noblest work of tlie cre- Which wears in rain its Maker's glorious image, Unprivileged from thee." In the train of war are murder, violence, and cruelty of every kind. And all these abomi- nations are not only found in heathen nations, but also in what are called Christian countries. How artfully does the unregenerate heart con- ceal from itself its desperate wickedness ! Who knoweth his own heart ? Who can tell the depth of its enmity against God ? Who knoweth how deeply it is sunk into the nature of Satan ? From these considerations, may we not learn that " he who trusts his own heart is a fool ! " How many, even in this life, by casting off" the fear of God, and trust- ing their own hearts, have reduced themselves to miserable extremities. A striking example of this is presented in the life of George Vil- liers, created, by James I, Earl, Marquis, and afterward Duke of Buckingham, and invested with many high and lucrative offices. He is described as a gay, witty nobleman, with great vivacity, but a pretended atheist, without any principles of honor or integrity. Finally, dis- graced and sent to prison, he died in great want and obscurity, despised by all, an example of what a depraved and unregenerate heart some- times brings its possessor to even in this life. His situation is thus described by Mr. Pope: "In the worst inn's worst, with mat half hung. The floor of plaster, and the walls of dung; On once a flock bed, but repair'd with straw. The tape-tied curtains, never meant to draw. The George and Garter dangling from that bed, AVhere tawdry yellow strove with dirty red, Great Villiers lies: alas ! how chang'd from him, That life of pleasure, and that soul of whim ! No wit to flatter left of all his store ! No fool to laugh at, which he valued more ! There, victor of his health, of fortune, friends, And fame, this lord of useless thousands ends." CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 13 1 PETEE, Chap, iii: verse 11. PSALM cxix: verse 165 ISAIAH, Chap, xxxji; verse 17. PROVERBS, Chap, iii: verse 17. MAEK, Chap, ix: verso 50. EOMANS, Chaj). viii: verse G. GALATIANS, Chap, v: verse 22. MALACHI, Chap, ii: verses 5, 6. PEACE. Great peace have they that love thy law. Ps. cxix: 165. Blessed are the peace-makers. Matt, v : 9. On earth peace and good will to men. Luke ii: 14. Righteousness , peace, and joy. Bom. XIV : 17. Behold the seraph robed in spotless white, Peace, Heavea's own daughter, in its radiance bright, Within her hand the Olive-branch she ears, And the meek lamb, her gentle nature shares. Above, on outspread pinions floats the dove, The snowy emblem of a fathers love, The shield she bears is love, she lives to bless, The law she bears, resting on righteousness. Beyond, beside the Indian, gentle Penn, In friendly treaty meets his fellow-men. Takes from the red man's hand the pipe of peace, And seeks to bid all hostile feelings cease. The soldier waves the flag of truce above, That tells of friendliness, and truth, and love. Hail heaven-born Peace ! who came to shed below. The light of joy, to banish human woe. Clad in simple garments, white and clean, an emblem of purity unsullied, Peace, the daughter of Heaven, stands forth, holding the olive-branch in one hand, and the shield of Love in the other. She holds up the law, which rests on, or is firmly upheld by, the sure foundation of Righteousness. She wards off the attacks of her enemies by the shield of Love; a lamb, the emblem of innocence and harmlessness, is seen by her side. In the back-ground is seen "William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, in the act of inaking a treaty of perpetual peace with the Indians, one of whom, hUving the pipe of peace, is taking him by the hand; on the other side is the 14 CHEISTIAi^ SIMILITUDES. figure of a warrior, holding up the white flag of truce. Above them all is the figure of the dove, an emblem of the Holy Spirit, whoso influence pervades the whole scene. In a religious sense, the word peace signifies every blessing that relates either to the soul or the body to time or to eternity. Peace-makers are those lovers of Grod and man, who utterly abhor all strife and debate, all variance and con- tention; and, accordingly, labor with all their might, either to prevent this fire of hell beinir kindled, or when it is kin- died, from breaking out; or when it is broken out, to extinguish it. They en- deavor to calm the stormy spirits of men, to quiet their turbulent passions, to soften the minds of contending parties, and, if possible, to reconcile them. It is the joy of their heart to j^romote, to confirm, to increase mutual good-will among men, especially Christian men, that they may " walk worthy of the vocation where- with they are called; with all -lowliness and meekness, with long-suff'ering, for- bearing one another in love; endeavor- ing to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace." "But, in the full extent of the word," gays a celebrated divine, " a i^eace-maker is one, as he has opportunity, doeth good unto all men ; one that, being filled with the love of Grod, and of all mankind, can not confine the expressions of it to his own family, or friends, or acquaint- ances, or party, or to those of his own opinions — no, nor those of who are par- takers of like precious faith; but steps over all these narrow bounds, that he may do good to every man, that he may some M^ay or another manifest his love to his neighbors and strangers, friends and enemies. He does good, not of one particular kind, but good in general, in every possible way; employing herein all his talents of every kind, all his powers and faculties of body and soul, all his fortune, his interest, his reputa- tion : desii'ing only, that when his Lord Cometh, he may say, 'Well done good and faithful servant ! ' " The treaty of William Penn with the Indians has acquired a wide celebrity. It was made in the spirit of love, good- will and kindness toward the Indians. Thiu treaty between the Quakers, or Friends, on the one part, and the Indians on the othei', is one of the few which has been faithfully kept by both parties. " It was sanctioned by no formal oath," says one, "and it is about the only one which was ever kept." Such was the spirit of kindness and peace manifested by Penn and his companions, that it is said that the Indians never killed or in- jured a Friend, knowing him to be such. Unarmed, except, by Love, in danger's hour, Penn moves midst savage men; his power they feel: All-conquering love! more mighty in thy power, Than thundering cannon, or the glittering steel. Like coals of fire, Love melts the stubborn will Of those who lurk as tigers for their prey. With savage hate, with murderous aim to kill, The warrior stops, looks up, and owns her sway. And he who's girt around by Love, may stand Safe, as if circled by a wall of lire ! Hate will not lift 'gainst him the murderous hand, And feelings hard are melted and expire ! There is no true peace which can ever be incorporated with a worldly or an ir- religious life — no true peace which can accord with the ignorance or pride of infidelity. But great peace have they who live by the faith of the Son of God, and love God's law. The peace of God rules and quiets their hearts amidst the evils of life, and with every change, they are passing from strength to strength, anticipating, by faith and confidence, the blessedness and the security of an eter- nal Avorld. In storms and tempests here below, there is a calmness in the breast of those who do the will of God. They are at peace with him by the blood of reconciliation ; at peace with themselves, by the answer of a good conscience, and the subjection of those desires which CHEISTIAX SIMILITUDES. 15 war against the soul ; at peace with all men by the spirit of charity ; and the whole creation is so at peace with them *'that all things work together for their good." No extremes can rob them of this "great j)eace." Heavenly love sur- mounts every obstacle, and runs with delight "the way of God's command- ments." Says one, who is giving an account of the peace of God which many have felt at the hour of their dissolution, "We can only say that it is an unspeakable calm- ness and serenity of spirit; a tranquil- lity in the blood of Christ, which keeps tlie souls of believers, in their latest hour, even as a garrison keeps a city ; which keeps, not only their hearts, all their passions and affections, but also their minds, all the motions of their under- standing and imagination, and all the workingsof their reason, in Christ Jesus." «ic H« ^ * =i^ ^= The Apostle, in writing to his Eoman brethren, says, "If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men. Says a commentator, "To live in a state of peace with one's neighbors, friends, and even family, is often very difficult. But the man who loves God must labor after this ; for it is indispen- sably necessary, even for his own sake. A man can not have a misunderstand- ing with others without having his own peace materially disturbed. lie must, to be happy, be at peace with all men, whether they will be so with him or not. The apostle knew that it would be diffi- cult to get into and maintain such a Btate, as his own words amply prove — and if it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably. Though it be but barely possible, labor after it. " The more quietly and peaceably we all get on, the better — the better for our- selves — the better for our neighbors. In nine cases out of ten, the wisest course is, if a man cheats joii, to quit dealing with him; if he is abusive, quit his com- pany; if he slanders you, take care so to live that nobody will believe him : no matter who he is, or how he misuses you, the wisest way is genei-ally to let him alone; for there is nothing better than this cool, calm, quiet way of deal- ing with the wrongs we meet with." PEACE AMONG NATIONS. 'Oh first of human blessings, and supreme! Fair Peace! how lovely, how delightful thou; By whose wide tie, the kindred sons of men, Like brothers, live in amity combined, And unsuspicious faith; while lionest toil Gives every joy; and to those joys a right Which idle, barbarous rapine but usurps. $ -a » « Oh Peace 1 thou source and soul of social life! Beneath whose calm inspiring influence, Science his views enlarges, art refines, And swelling commerce opens all her ports- Blest be the man that gives us thee! AVho bids the trumpet hush its horrid clang Nor blow the giddy nations into rage: Who sheathes the murd'rous blade; the deadly gun Into the well-piled armory returns, And every vigor from the work of death, To grateful industry converting, makes The country flourish, and the city smiles! « * « Far as the breeze can bear the gifts of peace; Till all the bappy nations catch the song. ' 16 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. GENESIS, Chap, xxiv: verse 27. PSALM xxxi: verses 4, 5. 1 PSALM Ixxxv: verse 11. ' .ill' PROVEEBS, Chap, xii: verse 19. PROYERBS, Chap, xvi: verse 6. PSALM Ixiii: verse 11. MATTHEW, Chap. V : verse 11. LAMENTA'NS, Chap, iii: verse 26. TIME BRINGS UP TRUTH. The Truth of the Lord endureth forever. Ps. cxvii: 2. is nothing hid which shall not be manifested. Mark iv : 22. ■There Time brings up Truth at last, though buried long, Though Slander, Envy, Strife, her foes are strong. In her dark prison, bound, she may have lain, The light of day shall o'er her shine again. Despond not drooping heart in darkness bound, Whom cruel slander long had power to wound ; What though it seem the hour would ne'er be. past, Time the avenger sets it right at last. Wait thou for Time! oh stricken, slandered one, Though treachery wound, and friends thy path- way shun. Time is here represented as bringing Truth out of a cavern, in which she had long been confined by Slander, Envy, and Strife, her principal enemies, who ai'e shrinking away from the scene. The following stanzas are from an ancient publication, underneath a cut by which our engraving was suggested : Three Furies fell, which turne the world to ruthe, Both Envy, Strife and Slander here appeare, In dungeon dark they long inclosed Truth, But Time at length did loose his daughter deare, And sets aloft the lady bright Who things long hid reveals and brings to light. Though strife make fire, though Envy eat her heart. The innocent though Slander rente and spoile, Yet time will «ome and take the Ladle's part. And break her bands, and bring her foes to foile. Despaire not then, though Truth be hidden ofle, Because at length she shall be set alofte. Envy, who is in close alliance with her sisters Malice and Slander, is of hateful CHEISTIA]^ SIMILITUDES. IT orii^in and aspect. She furnishes poison and other ingredients and implements with which to destroy the reputation and life of those about her. She will, if possible, disfigure Truth, or so shut her up in some cavern or dungeon that she can not appear. With her foul paint- Wush she will endeavor to cover her in such disagreeable colors as to render her an object of aversion. By disfiguring or suppressing Truth, Strife with her fiery torch is aroused, and when she stalks abroad "there is confusion and every evil work," yet let no one despair, for "Truth crushed to earth shall rise again, The Eternal years of God are hers. Time the conqueror is coming forward,* he will break every barrier and remove every obstruction, and bring his daughter forth to the light of day, Avhen her ene- mies Avill shrink back abashed from her presence. Truth is "The good man's boast, and Fraud's eternal foe, The best of gifts Heaven can on man bestow ; Where she is found, bright virtue still resides, And equal justice every action guides ; In the pure heart and spotless mind she reigns, And with mild power her happy sway main- tains. The attribute of God himself confest. That stamps Lis image on the human breast." "The first creature of God, in the works of the days, was the light of the sense ; the last was the light of reason ; and his Sabbath work ever since is the illumination of his spirit. First he breathed light upon the face of matter or chaos; then he breathed light into the face of man, and still ho brealhcth and inspireth light into the face of his chosen. Lticretius, who beautified the sect thtit was otherwise inferior to the rest, saith yet excellently well, 'It is a pleasure to stand upon the shore and see ships tossed Tipon tlie sea; a pleasure to stand in the window of a castle and see a battle, and the advantages thereof, below; but no pleasure is comparable to the standing upon the vantage ground of Truth, (a hill not to be commanded, and whore the air is always clear and serene,) and to see the errors and wanderings, and mists and tempests in the vale below;' so al- ways this prospect be with pity, and not with swelling and pride. Certainly it is heaven upon earth to have a man's mind move in charity, rest in Providence,, and turn upon the poles of truth." When Christianity was first intro- duced among men, it received violent opposition from almost every class. Its divine founder was arraigned before a human tribunal as a disturber of the public peace, and condemned and exe- cuted as a malefactor. The apostles and evangelists of his holy religion were treated as imposters, considered as the filth and ofl^-scouring of the world, and most of them suffered a bloody death, But truth, like oil upon troubled waters, came uppermost at last. Paganism re- tired abashed and confounded; Christi- anity prevailed, and was established throughout the Roman Empire, extend- ing at last to the throne of the Csesars. Truth, on almost every subject, when first proposed or set forth, has generally met with decided opposition, and various attempts have been made to suppress or cover it uj) from observation. GaliJeo, the Italian philosopher, so celebrated for his astronomical discoveries, was born in Pisa, in Italy, in 1564. Having constructed a telescope, he made such discoveries in the science of astronomy, that it con- vinced him of the truth of the Coper- nican system. At that period a belief of this theory was considered as hereti- cal, and contrary to the word of God. Formal complaint having been made to the Inquisition, he Avas summoned before that body, at Eome, in 1615. He was ac- cused of maintaining that the earth moved around the sun, while the latter remained stationary. The Inquisition decreed that Galileo should renounce these doctrines, and neither teach nor publish them, and if he refused acquies- cence, he should be imprisoned. They 18 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. also issut'd ii docreo o, in an indirect man- ner, caused his i^xwxi -work on astronom- ical subjects to be published at Florence. He was, in the 70th year of his ac;e, attain sun\moned before the Iiuiuisition, who ordered that he should be imjiris- oned for three years, recite once in the week the seven ]H'nitential psalms, and that he should, in the most solemn man- ner, abjure the Copernican system, and bind hiinsolf by oath never to maintain or su)i])ort it either in his conversation or writings. We have a remarkable instance of Time bri nixing up truth from contiement in the history of Oliver Cromwell, the Lord Protector of England, who, per- haps, was more slandered than any other person who exercised sovereii>;n power. For a long period ho Avas denounced as an usurper and tyrant, a fanatic and hvi)ocrite. Even at the colleire Avhere ho was educated is a I'ecord which states that '■'■He was a great impnsta\ a jnost abandoned villain, icJw ha ring Inj horrid murder cut off King Charles I, of blessed 7nemorg,ti$urped the throne itselt\and, under the name of Froteetor,for nearly jire years plagued the three kingdoms icith outrageous ti/ranng.'' He died in U)58, and on the restoration of monarchy, his body was taken up and hung upon the gallows. Atter a lapse of two centuries of slander, the truth is beginning to ap]iear. Lis- tinguishcd anil able writers are now vin- dicating the fame of perhaps the most invim-ible general, the most consummate statosn\an, the wisest, the most religious and virtuous ruler ever placed at tho head of his countrymen. Many distinguished persons whose memory is now revered, were, during their lives, charged with crimes of which thoy were never guilty. Men who have boldly stood forth for the cause of Cod and humanity, have been accused of evil motives; have been a target at Avhich the vile shot their arrows, assailed by keen abuse and malignant ridicule. Wait patiently, then, ye who are suf- fering from Slander, Envy, and Strife. Time will yet vindicate his daughter Truth; she" will be brought from the thick darkness m which she has been so long confined, lovely in eimplieity and majestic iu power! CIIEISTIAN SIMILITUPES, 19 PROVERBS, Chap, xiv: verso 14. 1 8AMUEL, Chap, xii: verse 3. DANIEL, Chap, vi: verso 22, 1 TIIESSAL'NS, Chap, xi : verso 10. 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, iv: verso 7. JOB, Chap, xxix: verses 13-17. 2 KINGS, Chap. XX : verse 3. PSALM xxvi: verse 1. THE MEMOllY OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. 165.- -And Great peace have they that lore thy laio. Ps. cxix the work of riyhteousiiess shtdl be peace ; and the effect of righteous- ness, qidetnesSy and assurance forever. Isa. xxxii: 17. Back to the past, the jrooil man turns his eyes, And Moniovy's pictures to his vision rise. The briglit^eyeJ boy, who lifts liis heart in prayer, Asking, in youth, a lioavenly Father's care. Then to tlie liouse of God ho turns liis way, Shunning the patli where fliousands go astray. Then learning still of older lips the truth, Himself perhaps the guide of tender j'outh; Then later still with willing hand and heart, The gift of heaven to others he imparts, (]'lothing the needy orphan in distress, Blessing the widow and the fatherless, [bright, Oh! 'mid such scenes as these, the past grows Pictures of memory clothed in living light. The cnji^ravinc; is a representation of a true Christian or ri<;hteous man, roview- inc^ Bonio of the prominent transactions of his ])ast life. These a]>])ear in a vision-liko form in tho hack-cfroiind. The first scene rc])rcscfits him in tho morning of life, in the attitude of prayer, heing one of the first things taught him hy a sainted mother, who, perhaps, has \onf!; since dcptirted froir these earthly scenes. He next appears going to the house of God, in company with others, to engage in the public worship of God, and to receive public instruction. Again. 20 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. he is shown receiving instruction from those older than himself; or if he be a par- ent, he gives instruction to his children. Pointing upward, he directs them to re- member their Creator in the days of their youth. Later in life he appears relieving the fatherless and the widow, the hungry and naked, the sick and the distressed. Memory is that faculty of the mind by which we can recall past scenes or events, and the particular part which we took in them, and according to the spirit which we then manifested, we feel pres- ent pleasure or pain. Conscience is a power, implanted by God in the soul of man, for perceiving what is right or wrong in his heart or life, in his temper, thoughts, words, and actions. This fac- ulty is given even to the heathen, who have never had (outwai'dly) the law, but are a law unto themselves: who show the work of the law written in their heart, (by the finger of God,) their con- science also bearing witness, and their tlioughts the meanwhile accusing or ex- cusing one another. The memory of St. Paul, as far as it regarded himself, after his conversion to Christianity^, was a '■^memory of righteous- ness." This gave him peace, joy, and present satisfaction, though in the midst of severe trials and afflictions. The Apostle, near the close of his eventful life, declares that he had "fought a good fight," and that he had "kept the faith." All of which we are bound to believe was strictly true; and whatever his fel- low-laborers might have done, or what- ever blame might have been attached to the7n, the Apostle of the Gentiles appears, after his conversion, to have performed every thing that was required of him as a Christian. He who, like Timothy, has been brought up from childhood to know and obey the Scriptures, has many things to reflect on with pleasure. By the power of memory he sees how his infant mind was first oj)ened to receive heavenly in- struction from pious parents, or some other kind relatives; how he obeyed the command of God to seek him early, and how he experienced the divme promise of being found of him. He reflects with pleasure how early he was taught to love so good a Being, and from how many childish sins and follies he was preserved by keeping his commandments. All these, and many more mercies experi- enced in youth, called up by memory, brings him present happiness. They who have, according to their ability, given good advice to those younger than themselves, and have en- deavored to lead them into the paths of virtue, will, in after life, when memory recalls these efi^orts, find much satisfac- tion. Possibly they may see that thus they have saved a human being from ruin. Many, perhaps, by their kind woi'ds and actions, have been sustained and encouraged in times of trial and dif- ficulty. As they have advanced to riper yeai"S, they have brought xip their chil- dren in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. If faithful in these duties, the memory of it will be blessed. In an especial manner, he who has ad- ministered to wants of the poor and needy, the widow and fatherless, will, when memory recalls his acts, enjoy an eleva- ted pleasure; he has the divine promise, " Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." The righteous man visits the sick'and distressed, and endeavors to relieve suf- fering wherever found; he does not stop to inquire of what nation, or religious creed is the sufferer. He does not even ask what crimes he has committed be- fore he will relieve him. But like his heavenly Father, who sends his rain on the just and on the unjust, he endeavore to do good unto all men. What a noble subject, too, for contemplation is he who has been the instrument of preserving hu- man life, and bringing comfort and peace into the habitations of the wretched ! When the Son of man shall come X CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 21 in his glory, and before him shall be gathered all nations, then will he say to the righteous on his right hand, "Come ye blessed of my Father," for when I was hungry, ye gave me meat; thirsty, ye gave me drink; a stranger, ye took me in; naked, ye clothed me; sick, ye visited me; in prison, and ye came unto me. Our Divine Master here acknowl- edges that whatever is done by the righteous unto the meanest of his follow- ers, he will regard it as done unto himself. The earnest Christian has that true peace and calm satisfaction of spirit which arises from the testimony of his conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, he had his conver- sation in the world. He rejoices that God has given him the "mind that was in Christ" — simplicity, a single eye to him in the motions of his heart: to aim to be conformed to Christ in all things. His conscience bears witness, when memory recalls the past, that he has, in some good degree, " walked worthy of the vocation wherewith he is called;" that he has abstained from all appear- ance of evil, and, as far as he had the op- portunity, he has done good unto all men. The memoiy of righteousness brings joy to the soul even when in affliction. Whatever trials we may experience, the loss of health, poverty, the death or es- trangement of friends, the slander of others, the triumph of enemies, and even greater trials, yet, if we have the testi- Miony of a good conscience, we can " re- joice that our names are written in heaven." Many of the righteous have never ex- perienced any joy to be compared with that which then filled their soul when the body was well-nigh worn out with pain or pining sickness. And never, surely, did human beings rejoice like those who were used "as the" filth and offscouring of the world," who wandered to and fro, being in want of all things ; in hunger, in cold, in nakedness ; who had trials, not only of "cruel mockings," but "moreover of bonds and im^jrison- ments;" yea, who, at last, " countea not their lives dear unto themselves, so that they might finish their course with joy." To those who live somewhat out of the noise and bustle of the world, the joys and pains of memory bear with pe- culiar force upon the mind. If a person acted upon no higher principle than self- interest, it would be wisdom in him to live in such a manner as not to be har- rassed by the memory of the past. A modern poet thus describes the "Pleas- ures of Memory:" "From thee, sweet Hope, her airy coloring draws, And fancy's flights are subject to thy laws; From thee that bosom spring of rapture flows, Which only virtue, tranquil virtue knows. -s * -*- * A little world of clear and cloudless day, Nor wrecked by storms, nor moldered by decay; A world, with memory's ceaseless sunshine blest, The home of happiness, an honest breast. » « » * Hail Memory, haill in thy exhaustless mine. From age to age unnumbered treasures shine! Thought, and her shadowy brood, thy call obey, And place and time are subject to thy sway! Thy pleasures most we feel when most alone; The only pleasures we can call her own. Lighter than air, Hope's summer visions die, If but a fleeting cloud obscure the sky. If but a beam of sober reason play, So Fancy's fairy frost-work melts away! But can the wiles of art, the grasp of power, Snatch the rich relics of a well-spent hour ? These, when the trembling spirit wings her flight, Pour round her path a stream of living light • And gild tliose pure and perfect realms of rest, Where virtue triumphs, and her sons are blest ! '' Quick as their thoughts their joys come on, But fly not half so swift away ; Their souls are ever bright as noon. And calm as summer evenings be. The day glides swiftly o'er their heads, Made up of innocence and love ; And soft and silent as the shades, Their mighty minutes move. 22 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 2 KINGS, Chap, ix : verse 31. ISAIAH, Chap. Ivii: verso 20. PEOYEEBS, Chap, x: verse 24. PSALM li: verse 3. PEOYEEBS, Chap, xxviii: verse 1. JOB, Chap. XX : verses 5-20. MATTHEW, Chap, xxvii: verses 3, 4, 5. EZEKIEL, Chap, xxi : verse 24. THE MEMORY OF WICKEDNESS. There is no peace saith my God to the wicked. Isa. LVii: 21. Tribulation and anguish upon every soul of man that doeth evil. Horn. II : 9 , Dark is the scene which meets the troubled gaze Of the old man who squander'd life's best days. He sees the pictures of the hours misspent, With disobedience, sin and folly blent. A mother's warning voice he despised in youth; And trampled 'neath his feet God's word of truth. God's house neglected, engaged in angry fights, AVasted his days, and made riotous his nights; Then later still, the suffering and the poor Turned with revilings from his door. IVIemories like these makes his old age drear, Alas ! no hope beyond, his guilty soul to cheer The engraving annexed represents a wicked or unrighteous man who, unwill- ingly, has the remembrance of his crimes He is evi- ows itself by Some of his acts appear brought before his mind, dently ill at ease, which she his troubled countenance, unrighteous wayward and vision-like in the back-ground. The first scene in order represents him turning his back on the instructions of his mother. Eather than learn, his duty, he casts the lessons of wisdom aside, and, as it were, tramples them under his feet, and commences a truant life. The next scene CHRISTIA?^ SIMILITUDES. represents him engaged in quarreling with one of his companions, as the ■wicked heart is full of hatred and strife. He is again seen driving the poor and needy from his presence, although abun- dantly able to supj^ly their wants. He is also shown using violence and cruelty toward his fellow-man, and perhaps, in addition to other crimes and misdemean- ors, has betrayed female innocence by his false promises, regardless of the misery which was to ensue. Man was originally formed in the image of his Maker, that Beins: whose nature is Jove. Though now in a fallen and depraved state, some traces of his original constitution still remain. By the Divine Constitution misery follows the commission of sin and transgression. However depraved man may become, or to what extent he may cast off the fear of God, yet if he commits wrongs against his fellow-men, so he feels, to a greater or less extent, miserable and unhappy. He has violated the great law of love. He may disbelieve in the existence of any God to take notice of the affairs of men, either to reward or punish human action, yet he can not escape misery. He may attempt to drown his thoughts in various ways, but in vain, for memory, in spite of all his exertions to prevent it, will present his crimes in dismal array before him. Even among heathens who never had a written revelation, we find the same law in existence as among enlightened nations. Every-where, among all nations and tribes, high and low, the learned and the ignorant, bond and free, the consciences of men approve of acts of beneficence and love, and detest those of oppression and Avrong. Many accounts have reached us in history, where the wrong-doer has suffered misery and an- guish on account of his transgressions. Although amenable to no human tribu- nal, yet conscience, reminded by the memory of past wickedness, has lashed them for their crimes. The celebrated Col. Gardner, when a young man, led what is fiiLsely called a " life of pleasure." He appears to have cast off fear and restraint, and indulged himself in all the fashionable vices and follies of the times. Such then was his apj)earance of cheerfulness and buoyancy of spirit, that he received the appellation of "the Happy Eake." After his re- markable conversion to the Christian faith, ho stated to his friends, that often when those about him were ready to envy him for his apparent happiness, ho was in the most wretched and unhappy state of mind. Such was the memory- of his immoralities, he says, that on one particular occasion, when in the full tide of his career, a dog coming into the room where he was, he actually wished, and inwardly exclaimed "I wish that I was that dog." "One of the most sensible men I ever knew (says one), but whose life as well as creed had been rather eccentric, re- turned me the following answer not many months before his death, when I asked him whether his former irregulari- ties were not accompanied at the time and succeeded afterward by some sense of mental pain? 'Yes,' said he. 'but 1 have scarce OAvned it till now. Wo (meaning we infidels and men of fashion- able morals) do not tell you all that passes in our hearts.'" Such has been the power of the mem- ory of wickedness committed, that it has rendered life insupportable, and many have laid violent hands on them- selves and rushed unbidden into the presence of their Maker. Others, when human testimony has failed to convict, them of the murders they have commit- ted, have themselves voluntarily con- fessed their crime and suffered its penalty. During the last century, a jeweler of considerable wealth, while traveling at some distance from his abode, was mur. dered by his servant, who. after riflinor his master of his money and jewels, con- cealed his body in a stream of water. 24 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. He then departed to a distant part of the country, where he had reason to be- lieve that neither himself or master were known. There he began to trade in a small way at first, to escape observation, End in the course of many years seemed to rise up by the natural progress of business to wealth and consideration. Ho finally became the chief magistrate and judge in the town where he lived.' While acting as judge, a prisoner was brought before him, charged with the murder of his master. The evidence was such, that the jury gave the verdict that the prisoner was guilty, and the whole assembl}^ awaited the sentence of the judge. To their astonishment, they SOAV him come down from the bench and place himself by the side of the prisoner, and thus address his fellow-judges: "You see before you a striking instance of the awards of Heaven, which tliis day, after thirty years concealment, presents to you a greater criminal than the man just now found guilty." He then made an ample confession of his crime, with all its ag- gravations. "Nor can I," continued he, "feel any relief from the agonies of an awakened conscience, but by requiring that justice be forthwith done against me in the most public and solemn manner." The amazed judges accordingly pro- ceeded upon his confession to pass sen- tence upon him, and he died, it is hoped, a true penitent. The memory of wickedness will often force itself upon the mind in an unex- pected manner. In one of our oldest States, a man of pious parentage, being an adept in political movements, rose to offices of distinction. During the earlier part of his career, he was of licentious habits. Though of skeptical or infidel opinions, yet the remembrance of the wrongs he had committed, the female innocence he had destroyed, caused him many pangs of remorse. Some common occurrence would bring to his memory his former transgressions. On one occasion it is related of him, that when journey- ing on horseback, he dismounted and rolled on the earth in keen anguish of mind. Of all the distresses of mind that human beings can feel, perhaps none are equal to those of a guilty conscience. It embitters every comfort, dashes every pleasure with sorrow, fills the mind with desj)air, and produces wretchedness in the greatest degree. "To live under such disquietude," says a celebrated writer, "is already to undergo one of the most severe punishments that human nature can suffer." Dr. Young, who at- tended the last moments of Altamont, a licentious young nobleman of infidel principles, gives a harrowing description of the scene. Addressing himself to one of his infidel companions, he said: "How madly thou hast listened and believed ! but look on my present state as a full answer to thee and myself. This body is all weakness and pain ; but my soul, as if strung up by torment to greater strength and spirit, is full poAver- ful to reason, full mighty to sufter. Ana that Avhich thus triumphs with'in the jaws of immortality, is doubtless immortal. And as for a Deity, nothing less than an Almight}'^ could inflict what I feel. * * Remorse for the past throws my thought on the future. Worse dread of the future strikes it back on the past; I turn and turn and find no ray. Didst thou feel half the mountain that is on me, thou wouldst struggle with the martyr for his stake, and bless Heaven for its flames! That is not an everlasting flame ; that is not an unquenchable fire ! ^ ^ ^ My principles have poisoned my friend, my extravagance has beggared my boy, and my unkindness has murdered my wife! And is there another hell? Oh thou blasphemed yet indulgent Lord God ! hell itself is a refuge, if it hide me from thy frown ! " CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 25 PETJTEE'OMY, Chap, xxxii: verse 17. 2 CHEONICLES, Chap, xi : verse 15. PSALM cvi: verse 37. 1 COEINTH'NS, Chap, x: verse 20. EOMANS, Chap, i : verse 21. 2 KINGS, Chap, xvi: verse 3. tt PSALM IX : verse 15. EXODUS, Chap, xxxii; verse 4. HEATHENISM. The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty. Ps. Lxxiv: 20. They changed the glory of the incorruptible God into an imag;e made like corruptible man . . . birds, . . . four- footed beasts and creeping things. Rom. i : 23. Behoi-d the sacrifice of human blood, Spilt as an ofFering to some heathen god. The creeping things that move on distant shores, Are the varied forms that ignorance adores. The mother standing where the Ganges flows, Amid the waves her helpless infant throws; See Egj'pt's golden calf, the Persian fire, The ancients worshiped on their sacred pyre ; While modern tribes before their various idols fall, And worship what they know not, blind in all. The engraving shows heathenism in a variety of forms. One of the most prom- inent is a priest sacrificing a human vic- tim to appease or gain the favor of some imaginary deity, who delights in the shedding of human blood. In front are the crocodile, the ibex, and some creep- ing things, all of which have been wor- shiped as deities by nations of an- tiquity. In the back-ground the Hin- doo mother is casting her infant into the river, the sacred Ganges j the golden calf of Egypt and the Persian fire, both objects of worship, also appear. In one section the gods of ancient Greece and Eome are represented, before which wor- shipers are prostrated. In remote antiquity we find that heathen nations lived in fear of some great malignant spirit or spirits, who ruled over the countries where they dwelt. To obtain the fiivor of these in- fernal deities, they often sacrificed what they esteemed the most valuable, and on 26 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. great occasions human victims were of- fered. On one of these we ai-e informed that Xerxes, the Persian, buried alive nine young men and nine young women, belonging to the country he was travers- ing, to obtain the favor of the gods. In this he followed the example of his wife, for she commanded fourteen Persian children of il lustrous birth to be offered in that manner to the deity who reigns beneath the earth. When J^^neas was to perform the last kind office for his friend Pallas, he sacri- ficed (besides numerous oxen, sheep, and swine) eight captives to the infernal gods. Achilles, also, caused twelve Tro- jans of high birth to bleed by the sacer- dotal knife, over the ashes of his friend Patroclus. "A hundred feet in length, a hundred wide. The glowing structure spreads on every side ; High on the top the manly corse they lay, And well-fed sheep and stable oxen slay ; ■sp -iJ ■«- ^ The last of all, and horrible to tell. Sad sacrifice I twelve Trojan captives fell ; On these the rage of fire victorious preys, Involves, and joins them in one common blaze. Smeared with bloody rights, he stands on high, And calls the spirit with a cheerful cry. All hail Patroclus! let thy vengeful ghost Hear, and exult on Pluto's dreary coast. Pope's Homer II. The practice of shedding human blood before the altars of their gods was not peculiar to the Trojans and the Greeks. The Romans, in the first ages of their republic, sacrificed children to the god- dess Mania. In later periods, numerous gladiators bled at the tombs of the pa- tricians or nobles, to appease the manes or ghosts of the deceased. And it is j^articularly noticed, that after the taking of Perusia, there wefe sacrificed on the ides of March, three hundred senators and knights to the divinity of Julius Cffisar. The Carthagenians defeated by Agath- ocles, tyrant of Sicily, attributed their disgrace to the anger of their god, and offered two hundred children, taken from the most distinguished families in Car- thage. The mode of sacrificing these children was horrid in the extreme ; for they were cast into the arms of a brazen statue, and fi'ora thence dropped into a furnace. It was probably in this man- ner the Ammonites offered up their children to Moloch. The Pelasgi at one time sacrificed a tenth part of all their children in obedience to an oracle. The Egyptians in Heliopolis daily sacrificed three men to Juno. The Spar- tans and Arcadians scourged to death young women — the latter to appease the wrath of Bacchus, the former to gratify Diana. The Gauls, equally cruel in their worship, sacrificed men to their ancient deities, and at a later period to Jupiter, Mercury, Mars, Minerva, etc. Caesar in- forms us that whenever they thought themselves in danger, whether fx'om sick- ness or any considerable defeat in war, being persuaded that unless life be given for life the anger of the gods could never be appeased, they constructed wicker images of enormous bulk, which they filled with men, who were first suffocated with smoke, and then consumed with fire. In Sweden the altai's of Woden smoked incessantly with blood. This flowed most abundantly at their solemn festivals every ninth year at Ui)sal. When the king, attended by the senate and his courtiers, entered the temple, which glit- tered with gold, and conducted to the altar nine slaves, or in time of war, nine captives. These first received the ca- resses of the multitude, as being about to avert from them the displeasure of their gods. In times of distress more noble victims bled, and it stands upon record (says Dr. Clarke) that when Aune, their king, was ill, he offered up to Woden his nine sons to jjrolong his life. The Danes had the same heathenish and abominable customs. Hacon, King of Norway, offered his own son to obtain from Woden the victory over Harrold, CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES, 27 with whom he was at war. In Eussia the Sclavi woi'shiped many gods. Pe- roun, their thunderer, was sujDreme, and before his image many of their prisoners bled. Suetovid, the god of war, was ^heir favorite, and they annually pre- sented as a burnt offering three hundred prisoners, each on his horse, and when the whole was consumed by fire, the priests and people sat down to eat and drink until they were drunk. The an- cient Peruvians, on this western con- tinent sacrificed their children to the sun. In more modern times, thousands have voluntarily perished in India, under the wheels of their god Juggernaut. The ancient Egyptians, though consid- erably advanced in civilization, debased themselves by their heathenish system of religion. Their princij)al gods were Osiris and Isis, which are supposed to be the sun and moon. Beside this they worshiped the ox, the dog, the cat, the crocodile, the ibis or stork, and even creeping things. The bull Apis had a splendid temple erected to him; great honors were paid to him when living, and still greater after his death. The golden calf was set up by the Israelites near Mount Sinai, and worshiped. One of the most prominent forms of heathenism in modern times, is the wor- ship of the idol Juggernaut in India. This huge misshapen image is kept in a tem- ple, of which the principal part rises to an elevation of two hundred feet. Nu- merous festivals are held in honor of the idol, the most important of which are the bathing and car festivals. For a long period, pilgrims have assembled in vast numbers, from various parts of India, to attend the ceremonies. Gi'eat sufferings are experienced, in consequence of exces- sive fatigue, among those who come from a distance. Many die from exposure and want of food. The plains in many places are whitened with the bones of the pilgrims, while dogs and vultures are continually devouring the dead. At one of the annual festivals, Jugger- naut and two other images, said to be his brother and sister, are brought out and set upon huge cars. Six cables are at- tached to the car of Juggernaut, three hundred feet in length, by means of which the people draw it from place to place. Devotees, for the purpose of gain- ing in a future life, health, riches and honor, cast themselves under the wheels of the car to be crushed to death. " Here rolls the hated car, Grinding and crashing bones, and hearts and brains Of men and women. Down they fling themselves In the deep gush, and wait the heavy wheel, Slow rolling on its thunder-bellowing axle, Sunk in the wounded earth. The sigh, the breath, The blood, and life, and soul, with spurting rush, Beneath the horrid load forsake the heap Of pounded flesh, and the big roar continues As though no soul had passed the bounds of time. * * * * the mad, living throng. Trampling by thousands o'er the dead and dyings And shouting, howling, pulling, hear no groan, Nor feel the throes of beings beneath them." Upwards of a week is sometimes spent in clragging the car about two miles. Every time it stops, one of the priests steps forward on the platform, and re- hearses the deeds and extols the character of the idol in a manner the most obscene. Should the speaker quote from the Shas- ters, (their sacred books,) or invent an expression more than usually lascivious, the multitude give a shout or sensual yell. The abominations practiced on these occasions, both in language and manner, can not be named among a Christian people. From time immemorial Hindoo mothers have thrown their infant children into the Ganges, to be devoured by alligators, to propitiate some offended deitj^. For- merly thousands of Avidows were burnt on the funeral j^ile of their deceased hus- bands. They thus escaped the disgrace of being widows, and became, as they • believed, entitled to a residence with their husbands and relatives in heaven. Such is the religion of the most popu- lous of heathen countries, in modern 28 CIIEISTIA]^ SIMILITUDES. times. Woman is debased and made a slave wherever it prevails. It teaches its votaries to defile themselves with the mud of the streets; to measure the dis- tance from their houses to their temples by the length of their bodies, prostrated every foot of the way; to swing in the air, suspended b}'- hooks thrust through the muscles of the back, and to submit to a thousand other tortures, in honor of some cruel but imaginary deity. Of late 3'ears the British Government, in the parts of India under their control, have endeavored, and with varied suc- cess, to put a stop to these heathenish practices. At the time of the Christian era, most of the world was sunk in heathenism and idolatry, the character of the mass being thus truly described by the Apos- tle Paul: Professing themselves to be wise, they be- came fools, ami changed the glory of the un- corruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things. Wherefore God also gave them up to uncleanliness, througli the lust of their own hearts, to dishonor their own bodies between themselves: who changed the truth of God into a lie, and worshiped and served the creature more than the Creator, who is blessed for ever. For this cause God gave them up unto vile affections. For even their women did change the natural use into that which is against nature: and likewise also the men, leaving the natural use of the women, burned in their lust one toward another; men with men worliing tliat which is unseemly, and receiving in themselves that recompense of their error which was meet. And even as tliey did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient: being filled with all unrighteousness, forni- cation, wickedness, covetousness, malicious- ness; full of elivy, murder, debate, deceit, ma- lignity; whisperers, backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, without nnder- Btanding, covenant breakers, without natural affection, implacable, unmerciful : who, know- ing the judgment of God, that they wliich commit such things are worthy of death; not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them. — Romans i: 22 — 32. Moshiem, one of the most reliable of religious historians, speaking of the na- tions in the Eoman empire, states: 'All these were plunged in the grossest super- stitions. * * Some, nations, indeed went beyond others in imjnety and ab- surdity of worship, but all stood charge- able with irrationality and gross stupid- ity in matters of religion. Each nation had a class of deities peculiar to itself, among which one was supposed to be su- perior to all others, and was their king, or father. This supreme divinity, it was taught, was himself subject to the laws of /r//e, or to an eternal destiny." The supremo divinity of the Greeks and Eoraans was Jupiter; Mars, the god of war; Apollo presided over music, poetry, etc.; Mercury was the messenger of the gods; Bacchus, the god of wine, and presided over drunkards: Juno, the queen of the gods, was both the sister and wife of Jupiter ; Mineiwa was the god- dess of wisdom ; Venus was the goddess of the graces, the author of elegance, beauty, etc, and was in reality the pa- troness of all licentiousness. Besides these were many other inferior deities of lesser note, and the most of them were repre- sented as possessing the baser passions of mankind. The greater part of the gods of all nations were ancient heroes, famous for their achivements and woi'thy deeds, such as kings, generals, founders of cities, and likewise females who were distinguished for their deeds, whom a grateful posterity had deified. To these' some added the more splendid and use- ful objects ill the natural world, among which the sun, moon, and stars were pre- eminent, received worship among nearly all; and some were not ashamed to pay divine honors to mountains, rivers, trees, the earth, the ocean, the winds, and even to diseases, to virtues and vices, and al- most every conceivable object. CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 29 The worsliip of these deities consisted of numerous ceremonies, with sacrifices, oiferings, and prayers. The ceremonies, for the most part, were absurd and ridicu- lous, and throughout, debasing, cruel, and obscene. Most nations sacrificed animals, and many of them human vic- tims. Their prayers were insipid and void of piety, both in their form and manner. Over this whole worship pre- sided jjontiffs, priests, and servants of the gods, divided into many classes, and whose business it was to see that the rites were duly j^erformed. These were supposed to enjoy the friendship and familiar converse of the gods ; and they basely abused their authority to impose on the people. Besides this common worship, to which all had free access, the Grreeks, and others, had concealed rites, called myster- ies, to which very few were admitted. Candidates for initiation had fii\st to give satisfactory proof of their good faith and patience. When initiated, they could not divulge any thing they had seen without exposing their lives to gi'eat danger. These mysteries were little known, but it is well authenticated that many things were done contrary to de- cency, and in all of them the discei-ning might see that the deities there wor- shijjed were more distinguished for their vices than their virtues. The whole pagan sj'stem had not the least efficacy to produce and cherish vir- tuous emotions in the soul. In the fii'st place, the gods and goddesses who were worshif)ed were more distinguished for their vices than their virtues. Though considered as superior to mortals in power, and as exempt from death, yet in all things else they were on a level with their votaries. In the next place, most of their ministers, or priests, neither by precept or example, exhorted the people to lead virtuous lives, but the homage required by the gods consisted in the observance of rites and ceremo- nies. And, lastly, the doctrines incul- cated respecting rewards and punish- ments in the future world were dubious and uncertain, and others more adapted to promote vice than virtue. A univer- sal corruption of morals prevailed, and crimes, which at this day can not bo named with decency, were then pi'acticed with entire impunity. ao CHEISTIAJs" SIMILITUDES. LUKE, Chap, xvii: verse 5. HEBEEWS, Chap, xi: verse 6. IS LOi BOMANS, Chajj. iv: verse 5. 1 PETER, Chap, i : verse 3. COLOSSIANS, Chap, i: verse 27. 1 PETEE, Chap, i: verse 22. FAITH, HOPE, AKD LOVE. By whom also we have access by faith, . Horn. V : 2, 1. For we are saved by hope. Love is the faljilling of the law. Rom. xiii: . . justified by faith. Rom. VIII : 24. 10. . Faith, Hope, and Love, the heavenly three unite, To form a glorious circle, firm and bright; Faith lifts the sacred cross, which can not fail, And Hope her anchor casts within the vale; While heaven-born Love descended from the skies, Stands linked with these, by closest, purest tie* Hail, sacred circle ! beauteous sisters three, Bright emblems of the glorious Trinity, Shed evermore your smiles on fallen man. And teach to earth salvation's wondrous plan. The circle is emblematic of Deity, without beginning or end. Love being a strong feature, or perhaps essence, of Divine nature, its emblem is placed within the circle. Christian Faith and Hope are connected with Love by the etrong cords of affection. Faith elevates the symbol of Christianity, while Hope casts her anchor within the vail. Christian Faith, though not the great- est, stands the first in order among the Christian graces. By it we take the first step heavenward. Without it, it is impossible to please God, for he that cometh to him, must believe that he is, and that he is a re warder of them that diligently seek him. The man who professes that it is his duty to serve and worship God, must, if he acts rationally, do it on the convic- tion, first, that there is such a Being, infinite, eternal, and self-existent — the Cause of all — on whom all beings de-" pepend, and by whose energy, bounty, and providence all other beings exist, live, arid are supplied with the means of continued existence and life. He must also believe that he rewards all those that CHEISTIAX SIMILITUDES. 31 diligently seek him, and that he is not indifferent about his own worship ; that he requires adoration and religious ser- vice from man ; and that he blesses and especially protects and saves those who, in simplicity and iiprightness of heart, seek and serve him. This requires faith such as mentioned above. Faith in Christ, or Christian and saving Faith, is that principle wrought in the heart by the Divine Spirit, whereby we are jjersuaded that Christ is the Messiah ; and possess such a de- sire and expectation of the blessings he has promised in his gospel as engages the mind to fix its dej)endcnce on him, and subject itself to him in all the ways of holy obedience, and relying solely for everlasting life. As to the properties or adjuncts of Faith, it may be observed that it stands the first in order, and takes the prece- dence of other graces. " He that be- Jieveth shall be saved." Mark xvi : 16. It is every way precious and valuable. "Precious faith. 2 Peter:!. It appro- priates and realizes, or as the Apostle eays, in Heb. xi: 1, "is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of Vhings not seen." The evidences of faith /ire, love to Christ, confidence, prayer, ittention to his ordinances, zeal in pro- moting his glory, and holiness of heart and life. Hope is represented with an anchor, whereby is aptly represented her steadi- ness and trust. In religious pictures she lA often drawn with her eyes turned uj) toward heaven, in token of her confi- dence in that help which conies only from above. Scarcely any passion seems to be more natural to man than hope; and, considering the many troubles he is encompassed with, none is more neces- sary; for life, void of all hope, would be a heavj' and spiritless thing, very little desirable, perhaps hardly to be borne; whereas hope infuses strength into the mind, and by so doing, lessens the bur- dens of life. If in trouble, we hope it will be removed; this helps us to sup- port it with patience. It is said, in an old heathen fable, that when Prometheus stole fire from heaven, with which he animated mortal bodies, he gave Pandora a box which was close shut; but her curiosity (which the god foresaw) prompting her to open it, out. flew a variety of plagues and evils, which immediately dispersed themselves over the world. Confounded and astonished. Pandora at length shut the fatal box again, when, all the rest of its contents being fled, hope alone remained at the bottom, which jjroved the only consola- tion to mankind for the plagues Jove had sent among them. The Christian's hope is an expectation of all necessary good, both in time and eternity, founded on the promises, rela- tions, and jierfections of God, and on the offices, righteousness of Christ. It is composed of desire, expectation, patience, and joy. It may be considered as pure, as it is resident, in that heart Avhich is cleansed from sin : as good (in distinction from the hope of the hypocrite), as de- riving his origin from God, and center- ing in him. It is called lively (1 Peter i: 3), as it proceeds from spiritual life, and renders one active and lively in good words. It is courageous^ (Eom. v : 5; 1 Thess. v: 8,) because it excites for- titude in all the troubles of life, and yields support in the hour of death, (Pi-ov. xiv: 32) ; sure^ (Heb. vi: 19,) be- cause it will not disappoint us, and is fixed on a sure foundation ; joyful, (Rom. v: 2,) as it produces the greatest felicity in the anticipation of complete deliver- ance from all evil. "The hope of eternal life is repre- sented as the soul's anchor; the world is the boisterous, dangerous sea; the Chris- tian course, the vo^'age; the port, ever- lasting felicity ; and the vale, the inner road, the roj-al dock in which that anchor was cast. The storms of life continue but a short time; the anchor hope, if fixed by faith in the eternal world, will 82 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. infallibly prevent all shipwreck ; the eoul may be strongly tossed by various temptations, but will not drive, because the anchor is in sure ground, and itself is steadfast ; it does not drag, and it does not break. Faith, like the cable, is the connecting medium between the ship and the anchor, or the soul and its hope of heaven ; faith sees the heaven, hope desires and anticipates the rest ; faith works and holds fast, and shortly the soul entei'S into the haven of eternal repose." Love consists in approbation of, and inclination toward, an object that ap- pears to us as good. Love to God is a divine principle im23lanted in the mind by the Holy Spirit, whereby we rever- ence, esteem, desire, and delight in Him as the supreme good ; viewed as an at- tribute of Deity, it may be considered as the essence of the Divine nature, for it is declared by divine inspiration that "Grod is Love." It has been well ob- served, that though God is holy, just, righteous, etc., he is never called holi- ness, justice, etc., in the abstract, as ho is here called love. Ho that loves God will love his neigh- bor also. Brotherly Love is an affection to our neighbors, and especially to the saints, prompting us to every act of kindness toward them. It must flow from love to God, and extend to all man- kind; yea, we are required by the high- est authority to love even our enemies. Love is the fulfilling of the law, and makes mankind to resemble the inhabit- ants of heaven. The Charity or Love which God rec- ommends, (says an able commentator,) the Apostle describes in the following sixteen particulars. 1. Charity suffereth long. The love of God, and our neighbor for God's sake, is patience toward all^men: it suffers all the weakness, ignorance, errors, and in- firmities of the children of God, and all the malice and wickedness of the chil- dren of this world ; and all this not merely for a time, but long without end ; for it is still a mind and disposition, to the end of which trials, difficulties, etc., can never reach. It waits God's timo for the removal of afflictions, and bears them without murmuring. 2. It is kind; it is tender and compas- sionate in itself, and kind and obliging to others. It is mild, gentle, and benign. 3. Charity envieth not, is not grieved because another possess a greater por- tion of earthly, intellectual, or spiritual blessings. 4. Charity vaunteth not itself, or does not set itself forward in order to bo noticed or applauded, and is not dis- turbed because unnoticed or unknown, 5. It is not imffed up, or inflated with a sense of its own importance. Every man whose heart is filled with the lovo of God, is filled with humanity; he feela like a little child, knowing that if thero is any thing good about him, it coraefl from God. 6. Doth not behave itself unseemly, or, according to commentators, never acts out of place or character, never is un- mannerly or brutish, but, as far as pos- sible, is willing to please all men for their good and edification. 7. Seeketh not her own; that is, accord- ing to the original expression, is not de- sirous of her own spiritual welfare only, but of her neighbor's also. That man is no Christian who jmsses through life not caring how the world goes, so that himself is comfortable. 8. Is not easily provoked, or is not ir- ritated, made sour, or embittered. 9. Thinketh not evil; does surmise evil where no evil aj^pears, gives every man credit for his profession of religion, up- rightness, etc., while nothing is seen in his conduct or spirit inconsistent with this profession. 10. Rejoiceth not in iniquity; does not take any delight in fraud, violence, wher- ever or whoever against it may be prac- ticed; does not rejoice in the suffering of enemies. CHEISTIAX SIMILITUDES, 3?i 11. But rejoices in the truth, or every thing that is oi)j)Osite to falsehood and iireligion. 12; B:eareth all things, or, as rendered by some translators, covereth all things. A person under the influence of this love covers, as far as he consistently can, the follies, flxults, and imperfections of others, not making them the subject of censure or convei'sation. 13. Believeth all things; ever ready to believe the best of every person, and gladly receives whatever may tend to the advantapy fireside, when he is aroused, stru2:gles on, and finally escapes. Though pressed by poverty to a hovel, to a threadbare garment and a scanty meal, yet Imagination can lift one above his surroundings and conduct him up- ward with exultant joy. Chains and dungeons can but give force to its spirit. Bunyan, that " Prince of dreamers," through Heavenly Imagination, has spoken living truth to past ages, to the present, and will yet speak to ages yet to come. When the eyelids are closed, when the Father of us all " gives his beloved sleep," how often does he trans- port them to scenes more beautiful than earth can show ? Angels and seraphs are our companions ; we hear with other than mortal ears heavenly anthems of praise. Man, being a compound being, can not live or be guided by Iniagination alone. If his fond dreanrs find no cor- responding reality in life, he will be tempted to doubt the reality of the scenes presented by Imagination. He begins to ask. What is Truth ? Is there a God, and what is his nature ? Is he a good being, and does he care for and take delight in the happiness of his creatures ? He wishes some demonstra- tion of the truth of what has been pre- sented by Imagination. Divine Philosophy now comes to his aid. She teaches that there must be a first cause for all that we beho.d about us, and that first cause must have been unmade. In the language of the poet : Retire— the world shut out— thy thoughts call homi", Imagination's airy wing repress; Tlicn, iu thy soul's deep silende, thus inquire, What ami? and from whence? Inothiuji know, But that I am. . . . Had tlieree'er been nought. Nought still had been. Eternal there must be. ****** Whence earth and these bright orbs? eternal too? Graut matter was eternal ; still these oros 36 CIIEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. Would want some other father. Much design. Is seen in all their motions, all their makes; Design implies intelligence and art, That can't be from themselves If art to form, and council to conduct, And with greater far than human skill Besides not in each block — a Godhead reigns— And if a God there is— that God how great! That God is good and kind, appears in his creation. He opens his hand and satisfies the desires of his creatures, granting them food and raiment neces- sary and convenient. Grod has created man with a desire after immortalit3^ "Why this universal helief among the wisest and best of all nations in a future life? Does the All- wise intend to deceive the creatures whom he hath made? Eeason and true Philoso]ihy give an emphatic No! Mark how the good man feels when he obeys the law of love toward his fellow-men. He feels that God approves, and all is well. His conscience bearing witness, his happiness iucreases. He feels that God is Love, and that he will be forever blest if he obeys the voic^ within. Mark him who does his neighbor wrong ; peace departs, his soul is tormented, he fear- and shuns tlie presence of his Maker. Although he may profess to disbelieve in the existence of a (j!od, yet he can not escape the lashings of his conscience within. Does, not God teach by the Spirit that he has placed within the soul, that he will reward the right- eous and punish the wicked ? Does he intend to deceive mankind by manifestations thus given ? Man "has a soul of vast desires," that can range o'er the creation of God in a moment of time ; it can take into contemplation other worlds and beings. Would the Almit,^hty cre- ate a being with such desires and aspirations, elevate him above many orders of beings, and then sink him into nothing? Nature recoils at the thought, and Philosophy answers No ! In the language of Mr. Addison, which may be considered as a kind of paraphrase on the ■words of the Apostle, (2. cor. v.), it is thus forcibly stated : Whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after iinmoriallty ? Or whence this secret dread and inwird horror or falling into naught ? Why shrinks the soul B tck on herstdf, and startles at deslructiou ? 'Tis the Diolniiy that stirs within us : 'T is Heaven itself that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man The soul secured in her existence, smiles At the drawn dagger, and defies its point. The stars shall fade away, the sun liimself Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years; But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amidst the war of elements. The wreck of matter and the crush of worlds. TJie traveler being convinced by the truth of true Philosophy, accepts the guidance of Christian Faith. She is represented as holding a cross, the emblem of Christianity, and points upward to a mansion on high. Under the guidance of this daughter of Heaven, the Pil- grim can overcome all difficulties. She sup- ports him in poverty and affliction, in humili- ation and disappointment. By her power he can calmly look upon these things which may thicken around him, and he can even look death m the face. He recognizes the realities of eternal scenes, compared with which the concerns of this world dwindle into minor im- portance. Faith, the Apostle declares, is the substance of things hojied for, the evidence of things not seen; or in, other words, the passage may imply such a conviction as is impressed upon the mind by the demonstration of a problem, after which proof no doubt can remain. The things hoped for are the peace and approbation of God, and those blessings by which he is sus- tained in his pathway and prepared for the Kingdom of Heaven. In an extended sense, the things hoped tor are the resurrection of the body, the new heavens and the new earth, the introduction of believers into the heavenly country, and the possessions of eternal glory. ; The things unseen are the creation of the world out of nothing, the resurrection of Christ from the dead, his ascension and his media- tion at the right hand of God, all of which we firmly believe on the testimony of God's word. Faith comforts the soul with the assurance of another and better life. Happy is he who, with a firm and truthful voice, says, "I believe in the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting." It animates the soul. Eternal life! A life with God ! with the General As- sembly of just men, the Church of the first born, pure and holy. Here are no disappoint- ments, but joy present and complete, luture and eternal! "'Tis Immortality — 'tis that alone. Amidst Life's puins, ahnsements, emptiness. The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill." — Young, CHKISTIAN SIMILITUDES 37 I PETER, Chap, i: verse 17. ACTS, Chap. ix. verse 31. PSALM cxii : verse 1. PSALM cxlvi : verse 5. 1 PETER, Chap, i : verse 13. JEREMIAH, Chap, xvii verse 17. i:>iXV. ►'^ ^CX\"^^ FEAR AND IIOPE. Be not high-minded hut fear. Rom. x: 20 The Lord taheth pleasure in them that fear him, and in them that hope in his mercy. Fs. cxLVii: 11. Behold the gentle sisters, hand in hand, Are tr.weling on, to seek a heavenly land. Fear, pale and trembling, on each side descries Some hidden foe, expects some new surprise ; She dreads the serpent, 'neaththe rose concealed. And sees the reptile in his lair revealed; With cautious step she moves 'mid anxious cares, And ever for defense, a shield she bears. Hope, with her anchor, treads with footstep light. Looks to the skies, where all seems fair and bright. Sees not the dangers that her path beset. And all her hidden foes would fain forget. But Fear, with cauti-on guards and shields lier way, Thus, hand in hand, their prudence they display; So Hope and Fear the Christian's path attend, Together cheer, and shelter, and befriend. Fear and hope are here personified by two female fiii;ures, holding each other by the hand, both of whom are travel- ing to the celestial city through this present evil world. Fear is alive to the dangers which beset her pathAvay. She discovers the poisonous serpent concealed, it may be behind the rose- bush; she hears the growl of the wild beast, for Satan himself is represented as a roaring lion going about seeking whom he may devour. "Forewarned, forearmed." Fear therefore walks for- ward with caution, armed with a shield for defense. Hope, on the other hand, having the anchor by her side, is con- tinually looking upward, and perhaps does not alwaj's pay sufficient atten- tion to the dangers which may lurk around, but by having Fear for a com- panion, she IS shielded and protected from her enemies. Indeed, these two ought not to be separated while the heavenly pathway is being traversed. 38 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES " Hopes and Fears" says one, " are the great springs of human actions, and though seem- ingly standing in opposition to one another, they jointly contribute to the accomplishment of the same ends. Hope that is altogether fearless acts with rashness, or sinks into tor- por; but accompanied with Fear, it is vigilant as well as diligent. On the other hand, fear unaccompanied with hope, is despair; and despair furnishes no stimulation to enterprise. It is bv the due balancing of these two grand principles, Hope and Fear, that the human species are governed, and stimulated to actions tending to the preservation of the individuals and to the general weal. Our holy religion itself addre-'sses alike our liopes and fears." It is declared by divine inspiration that "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." This fear of God, according to religious writ- ers, is that holy disposition or gracious habits formed in the soul by the Holy Spirit, whereby we are inclined to obey all of God s commands; and evinces itself by a dread of his displeas- ure — a desire for his favor — regard for his ex- cellencies—submission to his will — sincerity in his worship, and conscientious obedience to his commands. He that possesses the fear of God can be confided in. Men can deceive each other, and, it may be, have little regard for wiiat their fellows can do for or against them, but they know that from the Almighty nothing can be concealed, and that he will require a strict account of all their thoughts and actions. Hope is one of the greatest blessings ever granted to man, even as far as the present world is concerned. It is said, m the old hea- then fable, that when Prometheus stole fire from heaven with which he animated mortal bodies, Jupiter, the supreme divinity, in anger to mankind, gave Pandora a closed box, but her curiosity — which the god foresaw — prompt- ing her to open it, out flew a variety of plagues and evils, which immediately dispersed them- selves over the world. Confounded and aston- ished, Pandora shut the fatal box again, when all the rest of the contents being fled, Hope alone remained at the bottom, which proved the only consolation that Jupiter or Jove had Bent among them. Hope is the first great blessing here below, The only balm to heal corroding wo; It ia the BtaflF of age, the sick man's health; The prisoner's freedom, and the poor man's wealth; The sailor's safety, tossing as one breath, It still holds on, nor quits us e'en in death. Alas! without hope, of what value would our mortal existence prove ? How should we be enabled to bear up under difhculties; what cordial should we have to opi'ose to the thou- sand heart-corroding cares with which this frail life abounds? It is then we avail our- selves of this anchor, and of the three Chris- tian graces; but are most relieved by Hope, which leads on, through faith, to the promise of liappier days here, and to endless bliss be- vond the grave. To be without hope is the most dreadful of all earthly punishments; it is the refuge of the poor and needy, and renders the distribu- tion of our lots below more equal, since the high and low, the rich and poor, can not, with justice, be deemed so widely diflerent in theii estates, when we consider that These are placed in hope and those in fear. " Hope is, in short, our best companion ; it leads us, as it were, by the hand through all difhculties and dangers; and it may justly be said of it, as has been observed of love, that The cordial drop heaven in our life has thrown, To make the nauseous draught of life go down." "There is," says Dr. Johnson, "no temper so generally indulged as hope; other passions operate by starts on particular occasions or in certain parts of life; but hope begins with the first power of comparing our actual with our possible state, and attends us through every state and period, always urging us onward to new acquisitions, and liolding out some dis- tant blessings to our view, promising us either relief from pain or increase of happiness." Hope is necessary in every condition. The miseries of poverty, of sickness, captivity, would, without this comfort, be insupportable; nor does it appear that the highest lot of ter- restrial existence can set us above the want of this general blessing, or that life, when the gifts of nature and of fortune are accumu- lated upon it, would not still be wretched, were it not elevated and delighted by the expecta- tion of some new possession, of some enjoy- ment yet to come, by which the wish shall be at last satisfied, and the heart filled up to ita utmost extent CHEISTIAK SIMILITUDES. ?>d PHILIPPIAXS, Chap, iv : verse 6. PSALM vi: verse 9. PROVERBS, Chap. XV : verse 8. JAMES, Chap, v: verse 16. DANIEL, Chap, ix: verse 21. PSALM cii: verse 17. ISAIAH, Chap. Ixv; verse 24. ROMANS, Chap, x: verse 13. THE SPIRITUAL TELEGRAPH. TTien shall thou call and the Lord shall answer. Is. lviii And while they are yet speaking I will hear. Is. lxv : 24. 9. Thought o'er the wire speeds on with lightning wings, And lo! an instantaneous answer brings; But far outgoing telegraphic speed, The one above the sinner's prayer will heed. From worlds beyond the remotest, faintest star, The message comes from Heaven's high realms afar. When thoughts upon the wire of prayer a3« cend. Earth and Heaven together quickly blend. By the ascending steps Faith, Hope, and Love, We gain quick access to the Power above; The promises of God. are props which bear Aloft the telegraphic wires of prayer. The power of commuTiicatinc^ thought or words to distant regions in a moment of time, is one of the greatest discover- ies of modern times. The nature of the agent by which this is accomplished is wonderful and mysterious. In a certain sense, time and distance arc almost anni- hilated. In an instant we can send our words, owe thoughts, and desires over wide countries, through mighty seas, to those we wish to see, and hold sweet converse with those we love. This method of communication is, iu some respects, a striking similitude to that by which man can make his wants known to his Father above, and hold 40 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. close converse with him. For the wel- fare and convenience of his creatures, the Great Proprietor of all has estab- lished stations where they can send their petitions and desires, and receive gracious answers. These stations are the sanctu- aries or places where God's people meet. To get into communication, the appli- cant or operator must ascend the steps of Faith and Hope to that of Love and Prayer. Here he can send his messages by the telegraph wire of prayer, over hills and mountains, up vast heights, even to regions beyond the clouds — to the Great God who is above all, with the expectation of receiving a speedy answer. The telegraph wire is supported throughout its course by props. These represent the promises of God, firm and everlasting, being in this respect unlike those which we often see in other lines of communication, which are blown down and broken by tempests. The props of the Spiritual Telegraph line, however, remain forever the same. When tempests sweep around, and light- nings flash, when thunders roll, they neither bend nor break, but stand up- right while ceaseless ages roll! Though we may be in the depths of affliction, the wires of the Spiritual Tel- egraph are ever within our reach. Our Heavenly Father understands every touch we make, and oftentimes, when we are yet speaking, he will answer our petitions. Though we may be in the depths of poverty, and know not where to obtain our daily bread — though our clothes may be in tatter?, so as to render us unfit to appear in public, j'et we have the privilege of using the telegraphic wires without money and without price. On the telegraphic lines, certain per- sons have privileges which are not granted to others, such as those who hold official stations, etc., who have the right of sending communications over the wires before all others. This is deemed necessary for the general good, as private affairs must give way to those of a public character. But those who use the Spiritual Telegraph are under no such restrictions. He " who sits in the circle of the Heavens" can receive at one and the same moment myriads of communications from every part of his vast creation, perfectly understanding every thought and desire of all beings in all worlds. He can, also, at one and the same moment, give as close attention to every applicant, as if there were but one among all created beings. The dutiful son who is in a distant country, often thinks of home, and sends messages to those whom he loves. Thus the Christian, "whose conversation is in Heaven," will be often sending messages thither by the Spiritual Telegra2:»h. He has communications with God the Father, Jesus Christ the Son, and with the Holy Ghost the Comforter. O blessed art of holding communion with the Father of our spirits ! O the height and depth of that blessed wisdom that devised the plan, that carried it out, and "opened the kingdom of Heaven to all believers ! " Render, then, O Christian, thy faithful acknowledgements to the Redeemer, Mediator, and Intercessor ! Remember that even amid the busy scenes of life, you can, in an instant, touch the tele- graph wire, and ojjen jour heart like u little child to your good, loving Heavenly Father above, and ask his guidance and protection. When you lie down at night, remember that swifter than an angel's wing is the flight of a believer's petition to Him who never slumbers nor sleeps. The telegraphic current of communi- cation is sometimes stopped or disturbed by storms, etc., in the vicinity of the lines. So storms of human passion, un- holy and opposite currents in the atmos- phere, will, on the Spiritual Telegraph, stop the communication between God and the soul. It is the same as "griev- ing the Holy Spirit of God," which we do when we sin, because of his immedi- ate presence with us. When we set up CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 41 idols of earthly inclinations in our hearts — which are properly his altai- — and bow down to serve those vicious passions which we ought to sacrifice to his will, it is in the highest degree griev- ous to him. ''For Avhat concord is there between the Holy Spirit and Belial ? or what agreement hath the temple of God with idols?" A j^articular frame and temper of soul, a sobriety of mind, is necessary, without which we can have no commu- nication Avith our Father in Heaven. It is in our power, by the assistance of the Holy Spirit, to keep our hearts in a state of prepai'ation to receive divine communications. We must jDreserve our minds in a cool and serious disposition, in regulating and calming our affections, and calling in and checking the inordi- nate pursuits of our passions after the vanities and pleasures of this world. Carelessness and inattention to the teachings of the spirit will bring dark- ness into our minds, and stop our inter- course with God. Man}^ who observe with some exact- ness the outward acts of religion, in the intervals of their Christian duties give a loose rein to their thoughts, affections, and discourse. Such can not long dwell in harmony with God. By and by a fatal lethargy overtakes them ; they lose, in a great measure, the desire of keeping up a constant communication with spirit- ual objects, and become almost insensi- ble to divine convictions ; such, unless aroused, will certainly be cut off from communion with holy beings, and the Spiritual Telegraph closed against them forever. *' Prayer ardent opens heaven, lets down a stream Of glory on the consecrated hour Of man, in audience with Deity." Dr. Young. "To the hills I lift mine eyes, The everlasting hills: Streaming thence in fresh supplies, My soul the spirit feels; Will he not his help aflbrd ? Help, while yet I ask, is given ; God comes down; the God and Lord Who made both earth and heaven." C. Wesley. 42 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. JOB, Chap, v: vei'se 17. HEBREWS, Chap, xii: verse G. MICAII, Chap, ii : verse 10. EEYELATION, Chap, iii: verse 19. GENESIS, Chap. 1: verse 20. ACTS, Chap, vili: verse 4. THE PARENT EAGLE. As an Eagle stirreth up her nest, Jiuttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her loings. Deut. xxxii : 11 . No chastening for the pres- ent seemeth to be joyous but grievous. Heb. xii: 11. The parent eagle bids her young to fly, And far aloft their fluttering pinions try; With seeming cruel haste she stirs their nest, Which mpy no longer be a place of rest, Then flutters o'er them, spreads her wings to fly. And seeks to bear the little ones on high. They learn to trust their feeble wings at length. And soar aloft with all their parent's strength. So oft in life, the fate that seems so hard, Brinsrs in the end exertion" s rich reward. It is related as a fact in the natural history of the eagle, that when the proper time has arrived for the young eaglets to leave their nest, the parent eagle so stirs it up that they can not stay in it longer, and they are obliged to find some other spot in wliich to live. They now make their first attempt to use their wings: in this they are as sisted by the parent bird, wlio flutters over and about them; spreads out her wings, so that when the efforts of her young fail, she bears them on her own wings to a place of shelter and safety. By this means they are taught to fly and provide for themselves. It would seem harsh and unreason- able to the young eaglets, were they capable of reasoning on the subject, to see their parent tearing to pieces the comfortable home in which they had so long nestled in quiet and security. They might ask. What wrong have we been guilty that we thus should be broken up and cast out upon the cold world? The conduct of their parent would, at least, be unaccountable; they might even charge her with cruelty, CHEISTIAK SIMILITUDES, 43 and loudly murmur and complain at what appeared a great misfortune. Could they dis- cover the reason, they would see that love for them was the true cause of it all. In this trait of the eagle with regard to her young, we have an apt similitude of many oc- currences which have taken place among com- munities of mankind. The land of Canaan was promised to the descendants of Abraham, and by this they were entitled to its posses- sion. However, during a time of famine, they emigrated to Egypt, where many favors and privilege.s were allotted to them. A genera- tion was born there, and their liomes seemed secure. When the time had nearly arrived that the Israelites should take possession of the Promised Land, the Egyptians were stirred up against them, and made their lives bitter with bondage. Finally, by a train of provi- dential events, they were brought into the land promised to tlieir fathers. At the commencement of Christianity, most of the followers of Christ had collected at Je- rusalem, where they were greatly prospered, and were so happy in the love and t'ellowship with each other, that they seemed inclined to build their tabernacles at Jerusalem, exclaim- ing, in their joy, "/< is good for us to be here.'^ They desired and expected to continue there during their lives. But in mercy to otliers, and to themselves, whose truest happiness was connected with their usefulness, a great perse- cution arose at the time of the death of Ste- phen, and the disciples were "scattered abroad, and went every-where preaching the word." The cause of Christianity was thus wonder- fully advanced, and Christian churches estab- lished in almost every part of the known world. Paul, the learned apostle to the Gentiles, being better qualified than his brethren to ppeak before kings and emperors, was driven by persecution away from his countrymen, to appear before the Roman emperor, by which the Gospel was introduced into the palace of the Ca?sar.s. Persecution followed the other apostles; they found no resting-place where they could abide in peace and safety ; every new abode was in turn stirred up, and they had to Hee from one city to another. In modern times, the history of the Puritans furnishes a remarkable instance of the truth of the similitude of the eagle stirring up her nest for the benefit of her young. After the bloody persecutions of Queen Mary, the Prot- estant religion gained the ascendency in Great Britain, when, in the year 1558, Queen Eliza- beth of England ascended the throne, to the joy of all her Protestant subjects. Many of these were Puritans, so called Irom.their etlbrta to maintain ■purilij of worship, untrammeled by those rites and forms which tliey thought contrary to the spirit of true religion. The Puritans felt certain of her protection, and ex- pected to pass the remainder of their lives in tranquillity. But they soon heard a voice, saying, " Arise, this is not your rest." Queen Elizabeth, though a Protestant, and in favor of the reformation, was of an arbitrary disposition. She took violent measures to enforce uni- formity in church discipline and service. The Puritans, while holding to the same doctrines as tlie established church, had scruples about practicing all its rites and ceremonies, and therefore refused compliance. A storm of persecution arose; their rest or place of aliode became stirred up. They were subjected to severe penalties, and compelled to collect for worsliipin private places with great secrecy. Hundreds of Puritan ministers were deprived of their livings and silenced, and others imprisoned, while their families were starving. These persecutions were continued with but little abatement for about fifty year.s. The Puritans made many efforts to obtain toleration, but the queen and most of the bishops refused. In consequence of these persecutions, many of the Puritans left their native country, passed over to Holland, and formed distinct and independent churches; but not liking their situation there, most of them emigrated to America. The stirring up and unpleasant- ness of the place of their abode, caused the emigration to and founding of the colony of Plymouth, in 1620. These colonists, in order to obtain "freedom to worship God," were thrown upon their own exertions, like the young of the eagle; they sought another hab- itation ; they went into a savage and howling wilderness, and there, deep and wi le, laid the foundations of civil and religious liberty. 44 CIIEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 1 COrJXTH'NS, Chap, ii: verse 14. EOMAXS, Chap, viii: Terse 5. GALATIANS, Chap, v: verses 19-21. 1 JOHN", Chap, ii : verse 16. EOMAXS, Chap, viii: verse 8. 1 JOHX, Chap, iii: verse 8. ECCLESIAST'S, Chap, ix: verse 3. GENESIS, Chap, vi: verse 5. THE NATURAL MAN. The man tvho serves sin loith a willing mind, and suffers Satan to reign over him. •Look on this picture of the natural heart, BoholJ the Holy Spirit's dove depart; The guardian ano;el weeping o'er tlie soul Despising all advice and Heaven's control. Deceit within his bosom holds its sway, And Pride rejoices in her vain display, While Anger growls: Intemperance is seen, And foul Licentiousness with form unclean, While Satan rules above with dragon wings, And o'er the Scene his dark delusion flings. The engraving annexed is a repre- sentation of the natural or carnal man, in a willing companionship with various lusts and vices in which the wicked take delight. The figure at the top is a, rep- resentation of Satan, with dragon wings, the fltllen Spirit of Light, who rules over fallen tnen and devils. The Holy Spirit »8 departing from him, represented by a dove, who is flying away. The Guardian Angel, or ministering spirit, is weeping at his folly in refusing to hear the voice of entreaty and Avisdom. Deceit is found in his bosom. Pride spreads out her shining feathers; ^7i<7er growls, and Zi- centiousness and Intemperance show their unclean forms by his side. It is thought' by many divines, from CHEISTIAX SIMILITUDES. 45 the tenor of several passages in the Bible, that pride or self-conceit was the cause of the Devil's downfall from heaven. Pride, in all its numerous forms, in every age and country, has al- ways been found congenial to the fallen nature of man. The peacock, which ap- pears to take so much pleasure in spread- ing out and displaying his beautiful feathers, is generally held up as an em- blem of those who take pride on account of their riches, honors, beautiful foi-m or features, of their gifts and talents, or of their fine dress, equipage, etc. And to such an extent, and in so many forms, has this accursed passion prevailed, that even many have been proud of their humility. No passion steals into the heart so im- perceptibly, none covers itself under more disguises, or to which mankind in general are more subject to, than to Pride. It is originally founded on self-love, that in- herent passion of human nature. The few advantages wo possess want only to be properly considered to convince us how little they are to be boasted of, or gloried in. Tlie whole of our bodily perfections may be summed up in two words — strength and beauty. As for the first, man is inferior to many of the brute creation. Besides, through a few days or even hours of sickness, he becomes weak and helpless as a little child. As to beauty, whicli has exhausted human wit in raptures to its praise, how soon it is destroyed by sickness or age; and even in its perfection, how it is excelled by the flowers of the field ! Often to its possessor it has been a fatal ornament, ruining both soul and body. "Pride," sa3'S a good writer, "is the 'high opinion that a poor little contracted soul entertains of itself, and is mani- fested by praising ourselves, adorning our persons, attempting to ajipear before others in a superior light to what we arc; contempt and slander of others; envy at the excellencies that others pos- sess; anxiety to gain applause; distress and rage when slighted; impatience of contradiction and 02)2)osition to God him- self The evil effects of pride are be- yoiid computation. It has spread itself universally among all nations, among all characters; and as it is the first sin, as some suppose, that entered into the world, so it seems the last to be con- quered. It may be considered as the j)arent of discontent, ingratitude, cov- etousness, i)overty, presumption, passion, extravagance, bigotry, war, and jierse- cution. In fact there is hardly an evil perpetrated bat what pride is connected with it in a proximate or remote sense." Anger and lU-icill are represented by a growling wild beast, such as a lion, tiger, or leopard, at the left of the picture. It is the fiercest of passions, and under its influence man rages like a wild, ferocious; beast. The claims of fother, mother, brother, sister, friend, and every tender tie of humanity for the time are lost; it tempts men in an instant to commit such enormities, that an age of repentance can not atone for them. Anger is a raging fever of the mind, a species of madness or insanity. In- deed they ai*e so much alike that some- times it is difficult to distinguish the dif- ference between them, their effects being equally fatal. It is so terrible that it makes human beings like demons. A passionate temper renders a man unfit for advice, deprives him, in a great measure, of hi.'s reason, robs him of all that is great and noble in his nature, destroys friendship, changes justice into cruelty, and turns order into confusion. It is stated that beasts of the fiercer kind are enraged when they behold their own imago in a glass, or by the side of still Avater. The instinct of these crea- tures impels them at once to attack an animal which appears so detestable. If angry and passionate men could have a full and just view of themselves in all their deformity, they would hate, and make Avar Avith their oaa'u iniage. Deceit is often represented by a ser- 46 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES, pent, as Satan, the grand enemy of God and mankind, assumed that form when he deceived our first parents in the Gar- den of Eden. In the engraving, the serpent is shown in the bosom of the unregcnerate man. His heart is defined in Scripture as being "deceitful above all things;" that is, in the highest de- gree above all that \vc can conceive. In fact the generality of mankind are con- tinually deceiving themselves and others. How sti'angely do they this, not knowing either their own tempers or characters; imagining themselves to be far wiser and better than they are. A deviation from truth is equally natural to all the children of men. One said, in his haste, ''all men are liars,"' but we may say, upon cool reflection, all natural men will, upon a close tempta- tion, vary from or disguise the truth. If they do not offend against veracity, if they do not say what is directly false, yet they often oftend against simplicity. They use art, they hang out false colors, they practice deceit or dissimulation. Licentiousness is represented b}^ the goat, an unclean, impure, and in many respects a disagreeable animal. Intem- perance and Gluttony are personated by the hog. Both of these are shown at the right hand of the natural unregcn- erate man, both are his chosen compan- ions. By these vices he reduces himself to the level with the most unclean and filthy of the animal creation. The lib- ertine, the sensualist, the licentious man, is one of the vilest, most loathsome of characters. He must be a liar, a repro- bate, and, in short, a consummate villain that will break all the commands of God to obtain the object of his pursuit. He does not rush to destruction alone, but like his great original, drags others along with him to perdition. The Apostle, in speaking of the vice of licentiousness. Bays it is a sin committed against the body. Though sin of every species has a tendency to destroy life, yet none are so mortal as that to which the Apostle refers, as it strikes directly at the foun- dation of the constitution. It would bo easy to show that licentiousness and in- temperance lead directly, even with re- spect to the body, to certain death. With regard to the vice of intemperance or drunkenness, the latter part of tlie 23d cliapter of Proverbs contains a torcible description of its effects. Tlie writer describes liini \v]io "tarrieg long at tlie wine" as one "that lieth down in the midst of the sea, or he that lieth on the top of a mast." That is, " thou wilt sottishly run thyself into the extremest liazards without any apprehension of danger, being no more able to direct thy course than a pilot who slumbers when the ship is tossed in the midst ol" the sea, no more able to take notice of the perils thou art in than he who falls asleep where he was sent to keep watch." The writer of the book of Proverbs goes on in his description: "They have stricken me, shalt thou say, and I was not sick; they have beaten me, and 1 felt it not. When shall I awake ? I will seek it yet again." There is great beauty and energy in the conciseness of tiie original. What is rendered " I was not sick," some commentators say should be ren- dered " I was not sensible of it." The next clause should be, "They Iiave mocked me, and 1 knew it not." IIow striking and instructive a portrait is this of the stupid insensibility of a drunkard! Mr. Prior, in his Solomon, has well expressed it in the Ibllowing lines. There are, says he, . . . . . "yet unnumbered ills that lie unseen In the pernicious draught: the word obscene Or harsh (which once elanced must ever fly Irrevocable); the too prompt reply, Seed of severe distrust and fierce debate, What we would shun, and what we ought to hate Add, too, tlie blood impoverished, and the course Of health suppressed by wine's continued toice. Unhappy man ! whom sorrow thus, aud rage, To different ills alternately engage ! Who drink, alas! but to forget, nor sees That melancholy sloth, severe disease, Memory confused, and interrupted thought, Death's harbingers, lie latent in the draught, And in tliefiowers that wreathe the sparkling bowl Fell adders hiss, aud poisonous serpents roll." CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES, ROMANS, Chap, iii: verse 20. PSALM li: verse 3. ACTS, Chap, xvi, verse 30. ROMANS, Chap, vii : verse 24. ROMANS, Chap, vii: verse 9. LUKE, Chap, xviii: verse 13. PSALM xli: verse 4. LUKE, Chap. XV : verse 2L THE AWAKENED SINNER. The sinner convicted of breaking God's law, is alarmed; he casts off his sins and endeavors to flee from the wrath to come. The sinner wakened fo his state of sin, With penitence another life would now begin. Pride lowers her plumage and would fain depart, Deceit and Anger leave the contrite heart, Licentiousness dnd all its kindred train, Can o'er his nature no longer reign; Satan himself must his vile scepter yield, And vanquished and reluctant leave the field, While the pure spirit, bringing heavenly love, Broods o'er the penitent, a spotless dove. The sinner, by the light of the Divine Spirit, sees that he has broken all the commandments of God; the angel of justice lifts the sword against him; alarmed, he leaves off his connection with various sins, and they are de- parting from him. Pride lowers her plumage; Deceit and Anger he no longer harbors; Licentiousness, Intemperance, and other vices he casts off. Thus ex- ercising repentance, the sacred influence of the Divine Spirit descends upon him, while Satan, the Prince of Darkness, finding he can no longer control his mind, is departing from the scene. By some providential occurrence, or by his word applied with the dcmoji- stration of his spirit, God touches the heart of him who is passing along, se- cure in his sins, unconcerned as to what will befall him in a future world. Light breaks in upon his mind, and the inward spiritual meaning of the divine or moral law of God begins to flash upon 48 CHKISTIAN SIMILITUDES, him. He perceives that "the commandment is exceeding broad," and that "nothing is hid from the light thereof." He is convinced that every part of it relates not barely to outward sin or obedience, hut to what passes in the secret recesses of the heart, which no eye but God's can penetrate. The truly convicted sinner not only hears "Thou sliait not kill," according to the letter of the law, but also hears God speak in thun- der tones, " He that hateth liis brother is a murderer." If the law says, "Thou shalt not commit adultery," the voice of the Lord sounds in his ears, " He that looketh upon a woman to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart." And thus at every point he feels the word of God " quick and powerful, sharper than a two- edged sword." It " pierces even to the di- viding asunder of his soul and spirit, his joints and marrow." And so much the more be- cause he is conscious to himself of having neglected so great salvation; of having trod- den under foot the Son of God, who would have saved him from his sins, and counted the blood of the covenant an unholy, a com- mon unsanctifv'ing tiling. As the convicted sinner knows " all things are naked and open to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do," so he sees himself nu- ked, stripped of the fig-leaves which he had sewed together, of all his poor pretences to religion and virtue, and his wretclied excuses for sinning against God. His heart is laid bare, and he sees it is all sin, "deceitful above all things and desperately wicked ;" he feels that he is corrupt and abominable; tiiat he deserves to be cast of!" from God forever; that " the wages of sin is death." The delusive rest and false peace of the sin- ner are ended by tlie proper discovery of tiie broken law. Pleasures once loved delight him no more. He feels the anguisli of a wounded spirit. He finds that sin let loose upon the soul, (whether it be pride, anger, or evil desire; wlietlier sell-will, malice, envy, revenge, or any other,) brings misery. He feels sorrow of heart for blessings he has lost, and the curse which has come upon him; remorse for having thus destroyed himself, and despised God's mercies; fear, from a lively sense of the wrath of God, an(4 tlie conse- quences of his wrath, of the punishment which he has justly deserved, and which he sees hanging over his head; fear of death, as being to him the gate of death eternal; fear of the devil, the executioner of the wrath and righte- ous vengeance of God; fear of men, who, if they were able to kill his body, wouhl thereby plunge both body and soul into hell; fear, sometimes arising to such a height that the poor guilty soul is terrified with every thing, with nothing, with shades, with a leaf shaken by the wind. Sometimes it may approach to the brink of despair, causing him to cry out, like one of old, "The spirit of a man may sustain his infirmities, but a wounded spirit who can bear?" The ordinary method of the spirit of God is to convict sinners by the law, for by it "is the knowledge of sin." It is more especially this part of the word of God which is quick and powerful, full of life and energy, "and sharper than any two-edged sword." This in tlie hand of the great Jehovah, and of his Messengers, pierces through the folds of a de- ceitful heart, and " divides asunder even the soul and the spirit." By this the sinner is discovered to himself, and he sees that he is wretched, and poor, and miserable, and blind, and naked. The law which he has broken flashes conviction on every side; his mouth is stopped, and he stands guilty before God. The sinner who is properly convicted of his transgressions, forsakes, or endeavors to put away, all his sinful associations and compan- ions. Instead of pride there is now humility. He has been in the habit of thinking much of himself, of his natural or acquired abilities; his sins, or rather foibles as he calls them, he thinks are not of much moment, his good deeds far overbalancing them, and he may even scorn to ask any favors either of God oi man. But now, in the light of the divine law, he sees that he is a wretch, undone, unless God has mercy on him; and instead of priding himself on account of his good deeds, he loathes and abhors himself, on account of his sins, in dust and ashes, crying out, "God be merciful to me a sinner. " Formerly deceit nestled in his bosom, deceiv- ing himself and those about him, thinking himself to be something when he was nothing, saying, "peace, peace," when God says there is no peace. This serpent, Error, now departs, while the light of the Divine Spirit is upon him. Anger, malice, revenge, and other hate- ful passions, in which he formerly indulged, he puts from him, and wishes from his heart that God would create a new spirit within — love to liis fellow men, and love and forgiveness far his enemies. Intemperance, licentiousness, and other beastly vices he discards, and shuns the very appearance of evil. CIIEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 49 ISAIAH, Chap, xliv: verse 22. JEEEMIAH, Chaj). xxxiii : verse 8. HEBEEWS, Chap, viii: verse 12. ROMAKS, Chap, iv : verses 7, 8. 2 CORINTH'Is'S, Chap. V : verse 18. MICAH, Chap, vii: verse 18. LUKE, Chap. XV : verse 20. 1 JOHN, Chap, ii : verse 12. THE PARDONED SINNER. Tlie sinner is pardoned by the blood of the Cross. Faiths Hope, and Peace are his com/panions. The influence of the Divine Spirit descends upon him. Behold the pardoneil sinner with a band Of forms angelic, grouped on either liand. Faith clasps the cross, and to the brightening skies. Waiting the promise, lifts expectant eyes. There, amiling, radiant Hope her anchor bears, .\nd Peace, the olive branch, her emblem, wears, While o'er them softly broods the Heavenly Dove, Emblem of peace, and purity, and love. Faith, Hope, and Love, best boons to mortals given, To brighten earth, and smooth the path to Heaven. The sinner, after being weighed down by a sense of his sins and transgressions, despairs of any help or relief excepting from God. He hears of salvation by Jesus Christ. Faith springs up within that God will pardon and deliver hira, if he will forsake his sins 22 Looking at the cross of Christ, his soul is melted in contrition ; the burden of sin is removed, he feels his sins are forgiven; the hop.^ of present and eternal salvation springs up in his soul. These two Christian graces are represented in the engraving by two female figures, ^aith stands at 50 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES, the right hand of tho pardoned sinner, embracing the ctoss, with her eyes lifted upwai'd ; Hope, with her anchor, is at his left; Peace, with her olive- branch, follows her heavenly compan- ions Faith and Hope. The Dove, an em- blem of the Holy Spirit, is seen above. Dr. Scott, in commenting on the Pil- grim's Progress, where Christian loses his burden when he came up with the cross, says: ''Divine illumination, in many respects, tends to quicken the be- liever's hopes and fears, and to increase his earnestness and diligence; but noth- ing can finally relieve him from his burden except the clear discovery of the nature and glory of redemption. With more general views on the subject, and an implicit reliance on the mercy of God through Jesus Christ, the humblest sin- ner enters the Avay of life. >i« * * AVhen in this divine light the soul con- templates the Redeemer's cross, and discerns more clearly his love to lost sin- ners in dying for them, the motive and efficacy of his intense sufferings, the glory of the divine perfections harmoni- ously displayed in this surprising expe- dient for saving the lost, the honor of the divine law and ixovernmcnt, and the evil and desert of sin most emphatically pro- claimed, even in pardoning transgres- sors and reconciling enemies, and tho perfect freeness and efficacy of this sal- vation, then ' his conscience is jiurged from dead works to serve the living God,' by a simple reliance on tho atoning blood of Immanucl." The plain scriptural notion of justifi- cation is the pardon and forgiveness of the sinner. God the Fathei*, for the sake of the redemption made by the blood of his eon, "showeth forth his righteous- jiess [or mercy] by the remission of sins •that are past." Paul declares, "Blessed •are they whoso iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered ; blessed is the man to whom the Lord will not im- pute sin." To him who is forgiven, God will Jiot impute sin to his condemnation. He will not condemn him on that ac- count, either in this world or in that which is to come. His sins, all his past sins, in thought, word, and deed, are covered, are blotted out, shall not be re- membered or mentioned against him. any more than if they had not been. God will not inflict on the sinner what he deserved to suffer, because the Son of his love hath suffered for him. Christian faith, through which tho sinner is pardoned, is not only an assent to the whole gospel of Christ, but also a full reliance on the blood of Christ — a trust in the merits of his life, death, and resurrection, a reliance on him as our atonement, and our life as given for us and living in us. It is a confidence which a man hath in God that, through the merits of Christ, his sins are for- given, and he reconciled to the flxvor of God. The best guide of the blind, and the surest light of them that are in dark- ness, the most powerful instructor of tho foolish, is faith. But it must be such a faith as is mighty through God to the pulling dawn of strongholds, "to the overturning all the prejudices of corrupt reason, all tho false maxims revered among men, all evil customs and habits, all that wisdom of the world Avhich is foolishness with God; as casting down imaginations, [reasonings,] and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringeth into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." Those that have the true faith, have strong consolation through Hope. The Spirit beareth witness in their hearts that they are the children of God. It is the same Spirit who works in them that clear and cheerful confidence that their heart is upright toward God ; that good assurance that they now do, through his grace, tho things that are acceptable in his sight; that they are now in the path which leadeth to life, and shall, by the mercy of God. endure therein to tho end. It is he who givcth them a lively CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 51 cxi)Octation of receiving; all good things from God, a joyous prospect of that crown of glory which is reserved in heaven for them. By this anchor, a Christian is kept steady in the midst of this troublesome world, and preserved fi'om striking on cither of those fatal rooks Presumption or Despair. "Every one," saith St. John, "who hath this hope, purifieth himself, oven as ho is pure." It is his daily care, by the grace of God in Christ, and through the blood of the covenant, to purge the inmost recesses of his soul from the lusts that before possessed and defiled it; from uncleanliness, and envy, and mal- ice, and wrath; from every passion and temper that is after the flesh, that either springs from or cherishes his native cor- ruption, as well knowing that ho whoso very body is the temple of God ought to admit nothing into it common or un- clean, and that holiness becometh the house forever where the spirit of holi- ness designs to dwell. " The peace of God," which God can only give, and the world can not take away; the peace which "passeth all un- derstanding," all (barely) rational con- ception, being a supei'natural sensation, a divine taste of "the powers of the world to come," such as the natural world knoweth not, how wise soever in the things of this world; nor indeed can he know it in his present state, "be- cause it is spiritually discerned." It is a peace that banishes doubt, all painful uncertainty, the Spirit of God bearing witness with the spirit of a Christian that he is a child of God. And it van- quishes fcai', all such fear as has tor- ment, the fear of the wrath of God, the fear of hell, the fear of the devil, and, in particular, the fear of death ; he that hath the peace of God, desireth that it were the will of God " to depart and be with Christ." Whenever the peace of God is fixed in the soul, there is also "joy in the Holy Ghost." Joy wi-ought in the heart by the Holy Ghost, by the ever-blessed Spirit of God. He that workcth in us that calm, humble rejoicing in God through Jesus Christ, "by whom we now have received the atonement," the reconciliation with God that enables us boldly to confirm the truth of the Psalm- ist's declaration, "Blessed is the man [or rather happy] whose unrighteous- ness is forgiven, and whose sin is cov- ered." He it is that inspires the Chris- tian soul with that ever-solid joy which arises from a consideration that he is a child of God, and gives him to "rejoice with joy unspeakable in the hope of the glory of God ; " hope both of the glori- ous image of God, which is in part, and shall be in full, "revealed in him," and of that crown of glory that shall not fade away, reserved in heaven for him. 52 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUJ3ES 2 PETER, Chap, i : versos 5, 6, 7. -^^^S^g^'^MB^ 1 CORINTIirNS Chap, i: verse 30. 1 THESS. Chap, v: verse 23. 1 CORIXTH'NS, Chap, i: vei'so 2. 1 JOHN, Chap, i : verso 7. JOHN, Chap, xvii; verse 17. 2 CORINTH 'NS, Chap, vii: verse 1. MATTHEW, Chap, v: verse 48. THE SANCTIFIED CHRISTIAN. The Christian filled with the influence of the Spirit, adds to his faith, virtue, etc. Sins of various kinds, jyersonified by unclean ani- mals, lie dead at his feet. Behold, in life the Christian sanctified, Strengthened by faith, by fiery trials tried. He dreads no more temptations fearful night, But moves at liberty in God's own light; He walks with Faith, who, with her heavenly ray, Sustains his soul, and brightens all the way; He walks with knowledge; Heavenly wisdom true Inspires his courage, brings his foes to view. He lives with Godliness inspiring fear, A filial fear of God, and love sincere; Brotherly kindness unto all he shows, And charity, forgiving all his foes. The sanctified Christian walks at lib- erty in the keeping of Cod's command- ments. The influence of the Divine spirit is shed abroad upon him, and he adds to his faith, virtue; and to virtue, knowledge; and to knowledge, temper- ance ; and to temperance, patience ; avd to patience, godliness; and to god'i- ness, brotherly kindness; and to bioth- erly kindness, charity. Having the love of Christ within, the true Chris- tian overcomes the evil passions by CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 53 which he is beset; indeed they lie dead at his feet. The sanctified Christian has that Faith which has led him to embrace the whole Gospel of Jesus Christ, and has that virtue, or courage and fortitude, which enables him to profess Christ before men, even in times of fiery persecution, and at the hazard of life itself. He has knowledge, that true wisdom by which his faith is increased and his courage directed, preserving it from de- generating into rashness. The knowl- edge or wisdom he receives immedi- ately from above, in answer to prayer; for if ho lacks wisdom, God has prom- ised to give it to him. The Christian is temperate in all things, and makes a proper and limited use of all earthly enjoyments, keeping every sense under proper restraint, and never suffering the animal part to subjugate the ra- tional; he bears all trials and difficul- ties with an even mind, enduring in all, and persevering through all. The true Christian has godliness, or piety toward God, a" deep reverential fear, not only worshiping God with every becoming outward act, but ador- ing, loving, and magnifying him in the heart, worshiping him in spirit and truth. lie feels a spirit of love toward his fellow-men, especially a spirit of brotherly kindness to all of Christ's flock, of whatever name, feeling a spirit of union as a member of the same heav- enly family. He has charit}*, love to the whole human race, even to perse- cutors. True religion is neither selfish nor insulated; it rejoices with those that rejoice, and weeps with those that weep. Possessed of these graces, the Christian is rendered active in all Christian duties, and is faithful in every good Avord and work. "But he that lacketh these things," says the Apostle, "is blind and can not see afar off, and hath forgotten that he was ])urged from his sins." "He, whether Jew or Gentile," says u cele- brated commentator, " who professes to have faith in God, and has not added to that faith fortitude, knowledge, tem- perance, patience, godliness, brotherly kindness, and universal love, is blind; his understanding is darkened, and can not see afar off, .... shutting his eyes against the light, winking, not able to look truth in the face, nor to behold that God whom he once knew was re- conciled to him; and thus it appears that ho is wilfully blind and hath for- gotten he was purged from his old sins; has, at last, through his non-improve- ment of the grace he has received from God, his faith ceasing to work by love, lost the evidence of things not seen, for, having grieved the Holy Spirit by not showing forth the virtues of him who called him into his marvelous light, .... darkness and hardness having taken the place of light and filial confidence; he calls his former experience into doubt, and questions whether he has not put enthusiasm in the place of religion. B}' these means his hardness and darkness increase, his memory becomes indistinct and con- fused, until, at length, he forgets the work of God on his soul ! The Apostle exhorts his brethren to "give diligence to make your calling and election sure; for if ye do these things ye shall never fail." By which it appears that if the Christian is care- ful and diligent to work out his salva- tion by adding to his faith, virtue, etc., he w 11 never stumble or fall. "He who does not, by good works, confirm his calling and election, will soon have neither; although no good works ever did purchase, or ever can purchase the kingdom of God, yot no soul can expect to see God who has them not. But if you give diligence, and do not fall, an abundant, free, honoi'able, and trium- phant entrance shall be ministered into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. "Sanctification, that work of God's 54 ciiiustia:?^ similitudes, grace by "vvhich wc aro renewed after the image of God, is set apart for his service, and enables us to die unto sin and live unto righteousness; it must be carefully considered in a twofold light: 1. As an inestimable privilege granted us from God; and, 2d, as an all compre- hensive duty required of us by his holy Word. It is distinguished from Justifi- cation thus: Justification changeth our state in law before God as a judge; sanctification changeth our heart and life before him as our Father; justifica- tion precedes, and sanctification follows as the fruit and evidence of it." Justification removes the guilt of sin ; sanctification conforms us to his imaijc. Sanctification is a divine and progressive work. It is an internal work, not consisting in external profes- sion or bare morality; it is a necessary work as to the evidence of our state, the honor of our characters, the usefulness of our lives, the happiness of our minds, and the enjoyment of God's presence in a future Avorld. The sanctified Chris- tian has a holy reverence, earnest regard, and patient submission to the will of God. Ilcnce, Archbishop Usher said of it, "Sanctification is nothing less than for a man to be brought to an en- tire resignation to his will, to the will of God, and to live in the offering up of his soul continually in the flames of love and as a whole burnt offering to Christ." The doctrine of sanctification, or Christian perfection, has been a subject of some controversy in the Christian world, some asserting, others denying it; much of it, however, has been a controversy about words. Mr. Wesley, perhaps one of the strongest advocates of Christian sanctification, or perfection, says, in his sermon on rerfection, when speaking of the perfection of angels, "It is not possible for man, whose un- derstanding is darkened, to whom mis- take is natui'al as ignorance, who can not think at all, but by the mediation of organs which are weakened and de- praved, to a])prehend things distinctly, and to judge truly of them. . . . Incon- sequence hereof, his aftections, depend- ing on his understanding, are variously disordered It follows that no man, while in the body, can possibly attain to angelic perfection. "Neither can any man, while lie is in a cor- ruptible body, attain to Adaniic perfection. Adam, before his fall, was nndoubtedly as pure, as free from sin, as ever the Iioly angels. lr\ like manner his understanding was as clear sui theirs, and his afiections as regular But since man rebelled against his God, the case is widely different The highest perfection which man can attain while the soul dwells in the body does not exclude ignorance and error, and a thousand other infirmities. A thousand infirmities will attend my spirit, till it returns to God wlio gave it. And, in numberless instances, it comes short of doin,(; the will of God, as Adam did in Paradise; hence the best of men mav say from the heart ' Every moment. Lord. I need The merit o' thy death.' for the innnmerahle violations of the Adamii*, as well as the angelic law. . . . Love is [now] tlie fullilling of the law which is given to fallen man. This is now, with respect to us, the per- fect law. But even against tlirough the pres- ent weakness of our understanding, we are continually liable to transgress. Therefore every man living needs the blood of tlie atone^ ment, or he could not stand before Ciod." The Apostle Paul may be considered as an eminent example of a sanctified Christian. As far as we can discover, lie appears to liave done his whole duty after liis conversion. Near the close of his lile, he says, " I have fonght a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept my faith;" as if he had said, in allusion to the Grecian games, I liave struggled hard, and have overcome; I have started for the prize, and have come up to goal, outstripping all my competitors and have gained the prize. I have kept the rules of the spiritual combat and race, and thus, having contended lawfully and conquered in each exercise, I expect the prize. All these assertions of St. Paul we are bound to believe are strictly true. CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES, Do GENESIS, Caap. i : vcrsG 3. PSALM xxvii: verse 1. PIIOVERBS, Chap, iv : verse 18. JOHN", Chap, i : verse 9 PIIOVERBS, Chaj:*. iv: verse ID. JOIIX, Chr.p. iii: verse ID. JOIIX, Chap, xil: verse C3. JEREMIAH, Chap, xiii: verse lo. SUi^LIGIIT AXD DARKNESS. . . . WaUccth in darkness and knoircth vot ichit/icr he fjocth. 1 John XI: 11. Lead me to the Rock that is Jiitjlicr than I. Ps. LXi : 2. In thy light shall we see light. Ps. xxxvi : 0. See the two travelers, above, below; One safely walks in suiilight's radiant glow ; lie mounts the upland path, and brin;htly rise New scones of bi'auty to his raptured eyes. Fair cities, vilbifcos, and smilinp; fields With flocks and hards, the glowing landscape yields, And onward still, through light he takes his way To the broad sunshine of eternal day. While he who walks below, nor seeks the light, Dwells in the gloom antl shadows of tlic n'ght, With fogs above, and pitfal'.s sunk around. He gropes along o'er slouglis and miry gvound. Heeds not tlie call that bids iiini seek the way That leads to sunlight nml eternal day; Where walk Goil's chihlren, living in the light, But blind and willful, perishes in night. Hero are two travelers, one standing on elevated ground, the other in the marsh or swamp below. The first is in the sunlight, by which he beholds the fair face of nature rejoicing every -where in the bright beams of day. lie has just emerged from u dark and lonesome valley, and is filled Avith delight as ho views the prospect before him. In one direction he beholds a s]>lendid city ; on the other, beautiful villages, the flocks and herds dotting the landscape, with the green forest, the waving fields of grass and flowers. Below is seen tho 56 CHEISTIAK SIMILITUDES. other, inclosed in a fog or cloud so dense that the sunlight is, in a great measure, excluded. Ho wanders about in the midst of bogs and miry swamps, bewil- dered, and knowing not in what direc- tion he is going. The same sun shines above both, but the latter chooses to pursue his own way in the low grounds, which he has tra- versed ever since his first recollection. Ho has been invited to take another course, and travel up into the highlands, where he can find a better country, where the light of the sun is not ob- scured, and where he will find firm and steady footing. He turns a deaf ear to all advice and entreaty ; he pursues his chosen way, he wanders and stumbles amid bogs and miry places, and finding no sure footing, finally perishes in dark- ness, amid the stagnant waters. The sunlight may represent the light of God's truth, and the sun, Deity itself. " Grod is Light," says an inspired writer, •'and in him is no darkness at all.'' He is the source of all knowledge, wisdom, lioliness, and happiness, and having no darkness he has no ignorance, no imper- fection, no sinfulnesi^, no misery. Light is the purest, the subtile, the most useful, the most diffuse of all God's creatures, and is, therefore, a good emblem of the truth, perfection, purity, and goodness of the Divine Being. ''God is to the human soul," says a celebrated writer, '• what the sun is to the natural world, Avithout which, ter- ror and death would prevail." Without an indwelling God, what is religion? Without his all-penetrating and diffusive light, what is the soul of man? Ee- ligion -svould be an empty science, a dead letter, a system unauthorized and unin- ■fluencing, and the soul a trackless Avil- derness, a howling waste, full of evil, of terror, and dismay, and ever racked with realizing anticipations of future success- ive and permanent niisery. The soul that lives and moves in the light of God's countenance is truly in an elevated position. While others are gi'oveling in the darkness of sin and error, ho looks upward and around him; his vision is extended ; he beholds the goodness of God about him. By an eye of faith he sees the New Jerusalem, the City of God, the fair fields of Paradise, the Tree of Life, whose leaves are for the healing of the nations, and the man-' sions of tiie blessed. Darkness is the absence of light, and may well signify ignorance, sin, and misery. Even the heathen, who are Avithout the written revelation of God, assign to the wicked after death a re- gion of darkness, in which they roam about unhappy forever, while the right- eous live and move in the bright sun- shine of an eternal day. It is stated that the wicked love darkness because their deeds are evil, like the beasts of prey who hate the sunlight, but when the shades of night aj^pear, creep forth from their dens to ravage and destroy. "Happy for the world," says an ele- gant writer, " were these the only des- troyei's that walk in darkness. But, alas ! there are savages in human shape, who, muffled in shades, infest the abodes of civilized life. The sons of violence make choice of this season to perpetrate the most outrageous acts of wrong and rob- bery. The adulterer Avaitheth for twi- light, and baser than the villain on the highway, betrays the honor of his bosom friend. Now faction forms her close cabals, and whispers her traitorous in- sinuations. Now rebellion plants the accursed plots, and prepares the train to blow the nation to ruin. Now, crimer \vhich hide their odious heads in the day haunt the seats of society, and stalk through the gloom Avith audacious front." Now the Avretched creatures Avho infest our populous places craAvl from their lurking places to walloAV in sin, and spread contagion and death during the shades of darkness. He that Avalks in the darkness of sin knowetli not Avhithex ho gocth, for that CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES, b1 darkness hath blinded his eyes. Being in the quagmire, even that which seems firm earth trembles beneath him. Ho is deceived when about to put his foot on what appears a firm foundation ; it sinks beneath his feet; he gets deeper in the mii*c, and, xinlessGod interjjoses, ho will sink to rise no more. Almost all forms of false religion thrive most when enveloped in darkness and obscurity. The mysteries or the secret rites of the pagan religion wore care- fully concealed from the knowledge of the Vulgar or common people. They are supposed to have originated in Egypt, perhaps the oldest country in the world, and the native land of idola- try. In this nation their kings were en- grafted into the jn-iesthood, a body of men who ruled predominant. They {)0ssessed a third part of tlie land of !igypt. The sacerdotal office was con- fined to one tribe, and was transmitted from father to son. All the orientals, but especially the Egyptians, delighted in dark and allegorical doctrines, every maxim of morality, every tenet of the- ology and philosophy was wrapt up in a veil of darkness and obscurity. The religion of the ancient Europeans was that of Druidism. Their priests, who were called Druids, had the greatest influence over the minds of the people. They had no temples, but tiiey wor- shiped their gods in the same dark con- secrated grove in which the common people were not allowed to enter. Their chief sacrifices were human victims, sup- posed to have been prisoners of war. In more modern times the leaders of a certain system of faith have mostly chosen to conceal many of their move- ments amid clouds of obscurity and darkness. A new revelation, or supe- rior light, is now given, if we are to ci'edit their testimony, by communica- tions direct from the spiritual world. But to receive them we must enter into literal darkness, and by listening to fee- ble rappings, spell out truth. How different from all these clouds and mists of obscurity and darkness is the sunlight of God's truth. All, as far as can be, is open and plain ; no conceal- ment nor disguise. It commends itself to the conscience of every one in the sight of God. It lights up this dark world ; the dark shadowy gloom of night, is dispelled, the terror of death is taken away, a prospect of a bright future is opened before him, and he may say, with the poet, "Anrl darknesf and doubt are now flying away No longer I roam in conjecture I'orlorn ; So breaks on the traveler, faint and astray, The bright and bahny effulgence of morn. See trutii, love, and mercy, in triumph de- scending, And nature all glowing in Eden's fair bloom i On the cold cbeelc of death smiles and roseti are blending, And beauty immortal awakes from th« tomb." 58 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES, MlCAn, Chap, vii: verso 8. PSAL^I Ixxxii : verse 3. PIIO VERBS, Chaj). viii: verso 15. PSALM Ixxxix : verse 14;. JOB, Chap, xxxi: verso 6. PROVERBS, ChaiD, xvi: verse 11. PROVERBS, Chap, xl: verso 1. PROVERBS, Chap, x: verse 7. JUSTICE. Just balances shall ye hare. Ler. xrx: I received any bribe? Sam.xii: 3. judgment and Justice. Ezck. xlv : 9. 36 Of lohose hand have -Remoce violence and execute JnsTiCK aloft, an even balance bears, Willi nikeilswonl she no offender spares; No splendors bright can blind her honest sight, Ko tempting bribes can lure her from the right. Justice is usually represented by a female figure, having a pair of balances in one hand and a sword in the other. In the engraving slie is depicted as trampling under her feet a ])erson who is holding up a bag of gold, to attract her attention and favor. The pair of scales which tlie female holds up in her right hand, shows that justice carefully weighs both sides of a cause. It is her oflSce to punish crimes, therefore she wears a sword. She is not to be bought, therefore she tramples under her feet him who would offer her a bribe. When heaven-born Justice spreads o'er earth her sway, The wicked hide in that auspicio\is day; .Justice divine, the attribute of heaven, Tempered with mercy, now to mortals given. Justice IS an attribute of Deity, and it is that perfection whereby he is infi- nitely righteous nnd just, both in him- self and in all his proceedings with his creatures. It has been defined thus: "The ardent inclination of his will to proscribe equal laws, as the Supreme Governor, and to dispense equal rewards and punishments." Amongmcn, Justice may be defined that virtue which im- pels to give every person what is his due, and comprehends the practice of every virtue which reason prescribes or society should expect; our duty to CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 59 our Milker, to eacU other, and to our- selves is fully answered, if we give them what we owe them. Justice has been held in esteem amonir all nations, and man}"- examples of this virtue have been handed down to us on tho page of history. Alexander Sev- erus, one of the Eoman emperors, was distinguished for his love of justice. In his military expeditions, he visited the tents of his soldiers to ascertain if any of them were absent. If he found that they had left the camp only to plunder, he inflicted punishment upon them for their rapacity, and concluded his rep- rimands by asking them "if they would like to bo plundered in the same man- ner?" Ifc was likewise his custom, whenever he punished an officer, either military or civil, to address the sufferer either in jierson or by the officer who was to see the sentence executed, with this equitable caution : "Do nothing to another which you would be unwilling should be done to yourself" For this golden rule, which he borrowed from tho Christians, he had such an uncom- mon veneration, that he ordered it to bo engraved in large capitals over the gate of his palace, and on the doors of many other public buildings. Themistocles once declared, in a full assembly ('f the people, that he had a project of the greatest public utility, but its success depended on secresy, and he desired that they should appoint a person to whom the secret could be con- tided. Aristides, surnamed "the Just," was chosen, as the whole assembly be- lieved in his prudence and honesty. Themistocles, therefore, having taken him aside, informed him that the pro- ject he had conceived was to burn the fleet of the Grrocian States, Avhich then lay in a neighboring port, adding that, by this means, Athens would become absolute mistress of the sea and the um- pire of all Greece. After this explana- tion, Aristides returned to the assembly, and informed them that if they carried out the project of Themistocles, they would obtain the supreme power, but, at the same time, nothing could be more unjust or dishonorable. To their lasting honor, the people unanimously voted that the project should be aban- doned. Zulcucus, lawgiver of the Locrians, made a hnv that adultery should be punished with the loss of both the offend- er's eyes; and it fell out so unhappily that his own son was the first to com- mit that crime, and, that he might at once express the tenderness of a father and the uprightness of a judge, he caused one of his son's eyes to be jnit out and one of his own. Philij? of Macedon, being urged to interpose his credit and authority with the judges, inbehalf of one of his attendants, whose reputation, it was said, "would be totally ruined by a regular course of justice, "Very probably," replied the king, "but of the two, I had rather he should ruin his reputation than I mine." One of the most remarkable instances of impartial justice, on record, was ex- hibited by Brutus, the Roman Consul. Rome, at that time being a Republic, was governed by consuls. A con- spiracy was formed by Tarquin, among the 3'oung nobility, to destro}' the gov- ernment and to make him king. This plot was discovered, and the bravo and patriotic Brutus had the mortifica- tion and unhappiness to discover that two of his sons were ringleaders. His office was such that he was compelled to sit in judgment upon them; but he, nevertheless, amid the tears of all tho spectators, condemned them to be be- headed in his presence. The most pow- erful feelings of natural affection were overruled by a sense of his duty as an impartial judge. "lie ceased to be a father," says an ancient author, "that he might execute the duties of a consul, and chose to live childless rather than to neglect the public punishment of a crime." 60 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. Near the beginning of this centurj', one of the West India ishmds was so badly governed, that murder and assas- sination were of daily occurrenee. Du- ring the revolution of that period, the island fell under the possession of the British, when the commander forthwith gave notice that every murderer would bo punished with death. Soon after, a woman, in an affray, stab- bod a soldier to the heart, and then fled to a church, claiming and expecting, according to the old customs, priestly protection. The Governor sent a file of soldiers for her arrest; but the pop- ulace resisting, he ordered out a larger body, at the same time declaring he would call out all the troops on the island, if otherwise he should be unable to effect his object. The miserable wretch was seized, brought before him, and tried on the spot ; but remained defiant, expecting to escape punishment. Fixing his eyes upon her, at the same time pointing up to the sun, then past the meridian, he exclaimed, with a loud voice, " Prisoner, do you see yonder sun ? I take my oath before God, you shall never see it set r True to the letter, the unhappy Avoman suffered the penalty of the law before the setting of the sun. This summary execution of justice inspired such a salutary terror to evil doers, that no more murders were committed while the British had possession of the island. The peace of society dependetli on justice; the happiness of individuals on the safe enjoy- ment of all their possessions Keep tlie desires of tliy heart, tlierefore, within the bounds ot moderation; let the hand of justice lead them right. Cast not an evil eye on the goods of thy neiglibor; let whatsoever is his property be sacred from tliy touch. Let not temptation allure, nor any provoca- tion excite thee to lift up thy hand to the liaa- ard of his life. Defame him not in his character; bear not false witness against him. Corrupt not liis servant to cheat or forsake him; and the wife of his bosom, O, tempt not to sin. In thy dealings with men, be impartial and just; and do unto them as thou wouldst the; do unto thee. Be faithful to tliy trust, and deceive not the man that relieth upon thee; be assured it is less evil in the sight of God to steal than to betray. Oppress not the poor, and defraud not of his hire the laboring man. When thou sellest for gain, hear tlie whis. perings of con.«cience, and be satisfied with moderation ; nor from the ignorance of the buyer make advantage to thyself. Pay the dehts which thou owest; for he who gave tliee credit relied upon thy honor; 'and to withhold from him his due is both mean and unjust. Finally, son of society, examine thy heart; call remembrance to thine aid; and if in any of these tilings thoufindest thou hast transgressed, take sorrow and shame to thyself, and make speedy reparation to the utinost of thy power." — Economy of Human Life CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. Gl PSALM. cxliv -. verse 7. JOB, Chap, v: verse 19. ACTS, Chap, xii verse 7. PSALM Ixxii: verse 12. 1 SAMUEL, Chap. Yxu: verse 50. ACTS, Chap, vii: verse 25. 2 KIMGS, ^^ Cliai^. vii: verses 6, 7. ISAIAH, Chap, xlii: verse 16. THE UNEXPECTED DELIVERER. The Lord knonnHh how to deliver. 2 Pet. ii: 9.— aboee, he took me out of many waters. Ps. xviii : 10 ITe sent from Lost, engulfed in the angry wave, No human hand is ne.vr the wretcli fo snve; Fainter and fainter grows his parting breath, Each struggle only brings him nearer death; When lo ! the Albatross upon her way, Pauses, with sudden swoop, to seize her prey. Dips in the foaming sea her dusky wings, \yiien with sudden hope he grasps and clings; Upborne by her he floats upon the waves, Till some kind hand extends relief iind saves. O'erwhelmned in Life's dark sea, when hope departs. Some unexpected help, new life imparts; Comes to ttie rescue, like the bird on rapid wing. To which, in joy, the sinking soul will cling. The engraving represents a man in ihe ocean clinging to tlie albatross, who, endeavoring to fly from him, bears him up above the mighty waters, thus saving him from certain death. This most extraordinary circumstance ap- pears to be well authenticated, and took place in the following manner: "While a division of the 83d British regiment was on its waj' to India, being at the time a short distance cast of the Cape of Good Hope, one of the men was se- verely flogged for some slight off'ense; maddened at the ininishment, the poor follow was no sooner released than, in sight of all his comrades and the ship's crcAV, he sprang overboard. At this time there was a hifjh sea 62 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. running, and as tlio man swept on astern all hope of saving Iiim seemed to be gone. Eclief, however, came from a quarter totally unexpected. During the delay incident on lowering a boat, and while the crowd on the deck were watching the form of the soldier strug- gling with the boiling waves, and growing every moment less distinct, a large albatross, such as are always found in those latitudes, coming like magic, with an almost imperceptible motion, approached and made a swoop at the man, who, in the agonies of the death struggle, seized it, and held it firmly iu his grasp, and by this means kept afloat until the boat reached him. But for the assistance thus almost miraculously rendered, no poAver on earth could have saved the soldier, as, in consequence of the tremendous sea running, a long time elapsed before the boat could be manned and got down. In the meanwhile ho was clinging to the bird, whose flutterings and strug- gles to escape bore him up. Who, af- ter this, should despair? A raging eea, a drowning man, an albatross, what eye could sec safety under such circum- stances, or who will dare to call this chance? Is it not rather a lesson in- tended to stimulate faith and hope, and teach us never to despair, since in the darkest moment, when the waves dash, and the winds roar, and the mighty waters seem closing over our heads, "there may bo an albatross near?" "It has been remarked," says Mr. Buck, in his anecdotes, "that ho who duly observes Divine providences, shall never want providences to observe; and certainly it becomes us, as rational creatures and true Christians, to con- template the consummate wisdom and unbounded goodness of God in the va- rious events which transpire. It is that there are many difficult texts in the Book of Providence which we can not easily elucidate; but even what we at present sec, hear, and know should lead us to admire Ilim who ordereth all things after the counsel of his own will, and to wait with patience till the day shall arrive when we shall be con- strained to say, 'He hath done all things well.'" Who would have anticipated that the greatest of modern religious ref- ormations in England should have been effected by Henry A^III, a cruel and superstitious king, the worst enemy the reformation ever had; he, whom, by the force of arms and by the pro- ductions of the pen, opposed this great work, refuting those whom he could not persecute, and persecuting those whom he could not refute ! Who would have thought that this monarch should first serve the work he intended to subvert, clear the way for the Refor- mation, and, by shaking off the Papal 3'oke, execute the plan of Providence, while he seemed to do nothing but sa- tiate his voluptuousness and ambition! How unexpected was it that Martin Luther, an obscure monk, could have surmounted the obstacles of his preach- ing in Germany; and that the proud Emperor, Charles Y, who reckoned among his captives pontiffs and kings,' could not subdue one poor monk ! Who expected that the barbarous trib;inal of the Inquisition, under whose despotic power so many nations trembled, should have been one of the principal causes of the reformation in the United Prov- inces of Holland. All true Christians believe that there is an overruling Providence, who can make use of unlikely instruments to accomjilish his purposes. The follow- ing is one among many well-authenti- cated occurrences which could bo brought as an illustration of l^his truth. A poor but pious man, who obtained his living by carrying coal to market, was sometimes brought to extremities in supplying the wants of his family. On one occasion, being unable to sell hia coal, he was obliged to return home CIIIIISTIAN SIMILITUDES. G3 almost disheartened, as he had brought no food for his children. After they had retired for the night, the pious fa- ther went into a little place near his house, for prayer and meditation. While there, his mind was drawn out in a re- markable manner, as he was meditat- ing on that passage in Habbakuk, "Although the fig-tree shall not blos- som," etc., "yet I will rejoice in the Grod of my salvation." He was so absorbed in this subject, that ho lost sight of all his difficulties and troubles. When he returned to his cottage again, he was surprised to find his table loaded down with provisions. Ho could not obtain information who it was that sent them, and this remark- able occurrence was long a subject in- volved in wonder and mystery. Many years afterward, a miserly old man in the vicinity died, and it was generally observed that he was never known to have performed a single act of charity. This remark having been made one day in the hearing of an old servant woman, who had lived with him, she replied it was not strictly true, as on one oc- casion, many years before his death, her master called her up, and after en- joining strict secrecy, told her that he had suffered mucli in a dream, in which he saw the family of the poor man who sold coal in a starving situation, and that he could not rest until he had relieved their sufferings. He told her to hurry on her clothes, take a largo basket of provisions, make haste to the poor man's house, empty her basket on his table, answer no questions, but to return as quick as she could, and to tell no one what had occurred. Thus relief, or deliverance, came from an agent or source, albatross-likc, totally unex- pected. A remarkable deliverance recently took place on the ocean, in the vicinity of the American coast. A large ocean steamer, during a violent storm, became disabled, and finally went down with all her treasures on board. A small Nor- wegian vessel weathered the storm, and at the time was sailing in a differ- ent direction. A small bird having flown once or twice against the face of the captain, was, according to ancient tradition or superstition of his coun- trymen, a token that he was sailing in a wrong direction ; he therefore altered his course, came in sight of the sink- ing ship, and although a heavy sea Avas running, she sank, he saved many lives before 64 CHlilSTIAN SIMILITUDES. ISAIAH, Chap. 1 : verse 11 1 JOIIX, Chap, iv: verse 1. EPHESIANS, Chap, iv : verse 14. EPHESIANS, Chap, v: verse 11. 2 PETER, Chap, ii : verse 19. 1 JOHN", Chap, ii: verse 22. IGXIS-FATUUS, OR FALSE LIGHT. Thou castcth my loords behind thee. Ps. L: 17 whether he goefh. 1 John, ii : 11. — into an angel of Light. 2 Cor. xi : 16 — Knoweth not Satan himself is transformed Throuoti the gloom the traveler takes his way, No moonlight beam imparts its guiding ray, When sudden gleaming, through the gloom of night, The Ignis-fatuus bursts with delusive light, Dazzled, enchanted, by the fitful ray, The traveler casts his faithful lamp away; Discards the book that might have been his guide. Pursues the phantom over wilds untried. Through bogs and quagmires, still he stum- bles on. The illusive phantom glitters and is gone. When mid the quagmires sinking down to death, He bemoans his folly with his dying breath. So many a phantom with delusive ray, Through error's night, would lead our souls astray ; But Heavenly truth, our lamp, a trusty friend, A faithful guide, grows brighter to the end. The Ignis-fatuus is a meteor or light that appears in the night over marshy grounds, supposed to be occasioned by phosphoric matter arising from decaying substances, or by some inflammable gas, sometimes vulgarly called Jaek-o-lan- tern. Wonderful stories have been told of travelers being misled and bewil- dered by following these lights, which moved from place to place when they were approached. These appearances have been observed from ancient times. Milton, in his Paradise Lost, thus de- scribes the Ignis-fatuus : A wandering fire, Compact of unctuous vapor, wliich the night CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 65 Condenses, and the cold environs round, Kindled through agitation to a flame, (Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends) Hovering and blazing with delusive light. Misleads th' amazed night-wanderer from his way, Throuiih bogs and mires, and oft through pond, or pool. There swallowed up and lost, from succor far. In passing through this dark world, the Father of our spirits has given us his Word as our guide-book, and has also given us the light, or lamp, of Reason, by which we are able to learn its contents. In the engraving, a trav- eler, seeing a luminous and perhaps a beautiful object before him, is attracted by it, and leaves the path in which he is traveling. He discards his guide-book, the Bible, throws doAvn the lamp by which he has been able to discern his pathway, and follows the now light, or revelation, which now appears just be- fore him. He is led into morasses, swamps, and quagmires in pursuit of his object; he wanders far away, gets among bogs, and perhaps perishes in the mire. The above is a striking similitude of many of the new light theories which are continually springing up from age to age. The great object of Satan, the enemy of mankind, is to deceive, mis- lead, and destroy. For this pui-pose he transforms himself into an ane-el of light. In this disguise he deceived our first mother, by pretending tliat she should get a great increase of light — that is, icis- dom and understanding — and by this means came sin and death into the world, and all our woe. To effect the ruin of mankind, Satan being a " liar from the beginning," en- deavors to lower our estimation of the Bible as the word of God, and finally to discard its doctrines and precepts. He at first proceeds in a covert way, and in- duces men to reject a part only as being of divine inspiration; then the whole is easily discarded, or thought to be inferior iO the new light, or revelation, which ap- 23 pears elsewhere. The object of the en- emy is now accomplished, the poor trav- eler is deceived. He now throws down the Bible, the only sure guide-book, and follows an ignis-fatuus into the mire and swamps of eri'or and sin, where ho sinks to rise no more. To destroy the credibility of the Christian religion, Satan strikes at the divinity of Jesus Christ, and at the in- fluences of the Holy Spirit. Our Lord proved his divinit}^ by the miracles he performed; by the laying on his hands, he restored the sick to health. In imi- tation of this, in our age we have those among us who, by certain manifestations, the laj-ing on of hands, etc., profess to heal the sick, and perform many won- derful acts. By the theory of this sys tern, he that was in the beginning with God, and by whom all things were cre- ated, is stated to be but a mere man, and all the miracles which he performed were accomplished by the same powen which they possess. He was inspired, so likewise are we; in a measure, wi; have the same power which he possessed to restore the sick to health. It is a doctrine of Christianity that the Spirit of God operates upon the hu- man soul, and transforms men into the image of Christ, who thus become Chris- tians, or partakers of this divine nature. We have those among us, in our age, who claim power to transfuse their souls? into that of others, and control all their acts, and even all their thoughts. In this particular, they claim, in effect, the same power which is possessed by the Si:>irit of God. In addition to the foregoing, the fol- lowers of this new light, or revelation, in certain cases, claim the attribute ol' omniscience ; they also profess to sum- mon persons from another world, and converse with departed spirits or de- mons. Thus, the Deity worshiped by Christians is brought down to the level of poor sinful mortals, who contend that their revelations are like to his, and in 66 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. some respects they claim almost equal power. Thus in these things, professing them- selves to be "wise, they become fools, ■walking in the liijht their own fires have kindled. It must, however, be confessed that many things have occurred in our day which remain totally unexplained. The depths of Satan are not fully known, and to what extent his power may be exhibited wo know not; but it is our wisdom to follow no other light but that which proceeds from the Word of Grod. The heathen oracles of antiquity, the soothsayers, the wizards, possessors of familiar spirits, and the spirit of divina- tion mentioned in the Scriptures, the m^agicians of Egypt, ancient and mod- ei'n, the fortune-tellers of the present age may all be comprised under one class. The oracle among the heathens was the answer which the gods were supposed to give to those who consulted them upon any affair of importance. It is also used for the god who was thought to give the answer, and for the space where it was given. Many of these an- swers were given in caves and subterra- neous caverns; numerous and disagree- able ceremonies were enjoined on the priests or medium through which com- munications were made, such as sleeping in the fresh skins of beasts, etc. The priestess of the Delphic Oracle in G^reece, when placed over a fissure from which proceeded a sulphurous vapor, began to foam at the mouth, tore her hair and flesh, and the words uttered during her frenzy were put in verse and delivered as the answer of the oracle. At Dodona, the priestess foretold future events, by attentively observing the murmur of the sacred oaks, the voice of falling water, etc. In modern times, those through whom communications are made are fij-st put asleep, or have their powers of mind or body stupified or paralyzed. Those who have paid much attention to these subjects are divided in opinion. Some suppose they are only the inven- tion of jugglers; others believe that there is a diabolic agency employed in these matters. As this latter opinion can not be proved either impossible or unscriptural, it is no absurdity in be-- lieving in its correctness; indeed it is difficult to account for many things which stand recorded on the pages of history in every age, and of every na- tion, on other grounds. The existence and exercise of supernatural poAver, both good and bad, is acknowledged in every part of the Bible. All true Christians believe in the supernatural influence of the Divine Spii'it. To what extent Sa- tanic power is suffered to exist on mind and matter we know not, but we are continually warned against its machina- tions. The Apostle Paul says, " The Spirit speaketh expressly " of apostles in latter times, " giving heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of demons " (i. e., dead men) ; he probably refers to Isaiah's pre- diction of men who should say, "Seek unto them that have familiar spirits ; . should not a people seek unto their God, for the living to the dead?" Hence the prophet's injunction is pecu- liarly appropriate to us in these modern times : " lb the Law and to the Testi- mony — if they sneak not according to his word, it it because there is no light in them." "All things," says a recent writer, "betoken that we are certainly on the first steps of a career of demoniac mani- festations." Eejecting the Bible as au- thority; claiming for men inspiration in common with Christ and the Apostles, and of the same kind; regarding sin as but a small matter, merely as immatur- ity of development; setting aside all the Christian doctrines of a fall of an- gels and men from original holiness, of the depravity of man, the atonement of Jesus Christ, regeneration, pardon, etc., the system is beginning to be under- stood, though but half developed — "a cheistia:n' similitudes. 67 polytheistic pantheism, disguising, under Ihe name of Spirit^ a suhtle but general materialism," — a system which defines the soul as a substance not distinct from the body, but the result of corporeal or- ganization. It has been observed that the spirit- world of this system is like that of ancient Egypt, so distinguished for its magicians. The Egyptians divided the whole woi'ld into three zones: the first was the earth, or zone of trial ; the sec- ond was the zone of the air, perpetually agitated by the winds and storms, and was considered as the zone of temporal punishment; the third was the zone of rest and tranquillity ; these zones were divided into thirty-tAvo departments, where the souls of the dead were to bo distributed, etc. Those professing to have received the new illumination or revelation, state there is a series of grand spheres, com- mencing with man's rudi mental 8i)hei'e in the flesh, and ascending in just gra- dation to the highest heavens. Each grand sphere comprises several second- ary spheres or circles, and each seco-nd- ary sphere or circle has several de- grees, etc. While claiming to supply the lacking evidence of immortality needed to con- vert infidels, those that follow this "new revelation" indirectly deny that the ve&urrection of Christ " brought life and immortality." Invoking the presence of many mediators, they deny the one mediator Christ, by whom alone we ap- proach to God ; claiming to be the heralds of millennial glory, yet, with few exceptions, denying "that blessed hope, even the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ." "Mighty as the deep yearning of man- kind in all ages to penetrate the tremen- dous secrets of the dead ; mighty as the conception of departed worth, the unut- terable l(5nging of depraved hearts for the unforgotten, and the ecstatic delight of souls suddenly restored to converse with the idolized, whose loss made life a desert, they weave the spell of excit- ing novelty ; they excite the vague pre- sentiment of boundless discovery, and unveil a dazzling horizon of an elysium without a cross, where mankind shall be as gods, knowing good and evil. Drunk with this elixir, the millions surrender themselves to the implicit sway of — what powers? Powers unseen, powers aerial, under the masterly guidance of some one mind of fathomless ability, and fathomless guile. A foreign divine, a few years since, in a lecture on religious subjects, stated that "there remains yet for the world, as the crowning delusion, a lying imita- tion of the kingdom and dispensation of the Spirit — such as the lawless Com- munist sects of the middle ages, in the Familists of a later day, and in the St. Simonians of our own, has attempted to come to the birth, though in each case the world was not ripe for it yet, and the thing was withdrawn for a time, to reappear in an after hour — full of false freedom, full of the promise of bringing all things into one, making war on the family," etc. This adversary [the Antichrist of St. Paul] is not simply the wicked one, but the laiiiess one; and the mystery is not merely a mystery of iniquity, but of laiclessness. Law, in all its manifest- ations, is that which he shall rage against, making hideous misapplication of that great truth that "where the Spirit is, there is liberty." 68 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES HEBREWS, Chap, x: verse 38. JEREMIAH, Chap, ii: verse 19. PROYERBS, Chap, iv: verse 14. 2 PETER, Chap, ii: verse 22. 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, iv: verse 10. JEREMIAH, Chap, i : verse 16. REYELATION, Chap, iii: verse 15. 2 PETER, Chap, ii : verses 20, 21. THE BACKSLIDER. Tlie Backslider, turning to his former sins, the Guardian Angel weeps. Satan approaches to resume his reign over him, while the Spirit is departing. Behold the sinner turning to liis sins again; Pride, gluttony, ill-will, a kindred train — • Tlie holy, heavenly dove departing flies, His guardian angel views with weeping eyes; Satan approaches fo resume his sway, And guide iiim swiftly on liis downward way. 0! wretched man, wlio thus has turned aside From all that might to peace and virtue guide. Backsliding is defined as turning from the path of duty. It presup- poses that the person who is guilty of it has, in some part of his life, and to some extent, performed his duty in keeping the commandments of God. The engraving represents a person of this description, wlio, having once cast off. or renounced his sins, but by un- watchfulness, and by the force of temp- tation, is led to the commission of his former crimes and transgressions. The backslider is above represented as taking into his companionship his old associates, whon^ he had formerly discarded. He begins to be ashamed of the cross of Christ. Pride shows her shining feathers. Instead of par- CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES 69 doning or forgiving those who trespass against him, he indulges in feelings of ill-will and anger, which, if persisted in, will assuredly consign him to per- dition. Instead of endeavoring to attain pur- ity of mind, the backslider indulges in unclean thoughts and desires, which, if not checked and resisted, will soon break out into open acts of licentious- ness. The lower passions claim indul- gence, and by gluttony and intemper- ance one is assimilated, or made like the unclean beast. Indulgence of sin blinds the mind; deceit is practiced until, at length, it finds a lodgment in the bosom. The backslider, as he rejects the di- vine admonition, causes the heavenly Spirit to depart. Satan, prince of the children of disobedience, approaches to resume his sway over one of his former subjects. The guardian angel weeps over the waywardness of her charge. Rejection of the divine counsel, the in- dulgence of the hateful passions of fallen humanity, with the practice of beastly vices, places man on the high road to everlasting destruction. Tlu-oughout the Word of God con- tinual cautions are given against the danger of backsliding, or of departing from the living G-od. Even among an- gelic beings, the highest order of intel- ligences, we find backsliding; they left their first estate, and by transgression fell. Hence the expression of Isaiah, "How art thou fallen from heaven, O, Lucifer, son of the morning!" So our first parents, in the Garden of Eden, being tempted, or persuaded by the devil, became backsliders, and fell from the state of happiness by disobeying God. Solomon, king of Israel, the wisest of moi'tals, was admitted to near con- verse Avith his Maker, and gave him a wise and understanding heart; so that there was none like him before, nor ishould be afterward. Even this ruler. so distinguished for piety and greatness, became a backslider to such an extent that he committed the greatest of crimes, by joining in the worship of the false gods of the heathen. If such men fall from their steadiastness, it well becomes us all to "look diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God." We have recorded instances of back- sliding and apostacy under the Christian dispensation, as in the case of Peter, Judas, Demas, and others. The apostle Paul, speaking of the Jews, his countrj^- men, who were highly distinguished above all other nations for their superior privileges, says "they were broken off for their unbelief." Addressing the Romans, he says : "Be not high-minded, but fear, for thou standest by faith;" as if he had said, " they once stood by faith;" they gave place to unbelief, and fell. You stand now by faith, but it is as possible for j'ou to be unfaithful, as it was for them; consequentl}' j'ou may fall, as they have done. "The causes of backsliding," says one, are "the parleying with tempta- tions, the cares of the world, improper connections, inattention to secret or closet duties; self-conceit and depend- ence, and self-indulgence. A back^ sliding state is manifested by indiftcr- ence to prayer and self-examination, trifling or unprofitable conversation, neglect of public ordinances, shunning the people of God, associating with the world, thinking lightly of sin, neglect of the Bible, and often by gross im- morality." Better that we had never known The way to heaven throujjh saving grace^ Than barely in our lives disown, And Blight and mock thee to thy face Come back! this is the way; Come back, and walk therein- 0, may I liearken and obey, And shun the paths of sin. 70 CHKISTIAN SIMILITUDES. HEBEEWS, Chap, xi : verses 36, 37. JAMES, Chap, i : verse 12. MATTHEW, Chap, xxiv: verse 13. 1 PETEE, Chap, ii: verse 19. DAj^IEL, Chap, iiij verse 15. DANIEL Chap. V) verse 10. EEYELATION", Chap, iii: verse 10. 2 COEINTH'KS, Chap, iv: verse 18. THE TRIALS OF FAITH. Your adversary . . ivhom resist steadfast in the faith. 8, 9. The trial of your faith. 1 Peter i: 7. that overcometh the world, even our faith. 1 John v: 4 1 Peter v : The victory Faith passes on, undaunted on her way, Though many a templing foe would lead astray. The wreathes of fame and honor, to her sight, Are lure displayed in tempting radiance right; The horn of plenty at her feet is poured, The halls of pleasure spread their costly board; While on the left the fires of persecution flame, And foes entice, or openly assail : But Faith goes on her way, and bears the cross, And counting all her earthly gains but loss, Treads in her Master's steps, the Son of God, Who once on earth that fiery pathway trod. Faith is here represented, or personi- fied, by a female figure, surrounded by several persons, representing various temptations and obstacles set forward to oppose and stop her in her onward and upward course. "Wreaths of honor and distinction are placed at her feet. The halls of pleasure are opened, and she is invited to come in thither. On the other hand, the fii*es of persecution blaze. while the demon of slander and detrac- tion assail her from behind. But amid all, Faith looks upward, and presses for- ward, holding up the cross, the emblen-i of him through whom she expects to conquer. She follows the example of her Lord and Master, who once had the whole world offered to him if he would turn aside. Many times those who have com- CHEISTIAN" SIMILITUDES. 71 monced the Christian course in earnest, have been strongly temjited to turn aside, by the riches and honors which have been placed before them, to draw their attention from heavenly things. But we have many instances on record where faith has overcome. We have an illustrious example in Moses, the servant of Grod, who, through faith, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, thus renouncing all the jileasures and honors of Egypt, choosing rather to suf- fer affliction with the people of God than enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season. The love of honor, glory, and renown some men of elevated sj^irits have pre- ferred before all the pleasures of sense and imagination put together. This passion, when it takes possession of the soul, IS one of the most powerful. It has triumphed over the strongest pro- pensities of nature, the appetites and affections. See the conqueror devoting himself to a life of constant toil, peril, and pain to gain himself a name, to be praised and admired by those about him, and to have the fame of his exploits carried to distant lands. How many, in every age, have hazarded their lives ujion a mere point of honor, and " Ventured everlasting death To gain this airy good." All this has been overcome by the grace of Grod. Persons have been found will- ing to have their names cast out as evil, yea, to be counted as the filth and off- scouring of the earth, and suffer all things for the sake of Christ. The tempter endeavors to draw Faith aside to the halls and mansions of ease and pleasure ; the doors are opened wide, and she is almost pressed to go in; but, remembering the words of inspiration, "Touch not, taste not, hanrlle not,'" Faith withdraws her foot from the gilded halls of pleasure, which indeed appear desirous to the eye and sense, but are the very chambers of death. These trials of faith are at times extremely dangerous — many have fallen by them to rise no more. Faith, however, by turning off her eyes from beholding vanity, and looking above, gains the victory. Persecution raises his flaming torch, and endeavors to terrify Faith, and force her from the Christian path of duty. Multitudes of instances are on record where those of the noble company of martyrs have endured, literally, the "fiery trial," being burned at the stake rather than renounce the faith whii.'h they had professed. The Apostle Paul, in his epistle to the Hebrews, gives a long list of the primitive martyrs who had their faith tried b}' various tortures. Some had trial of "cruel mockings" — supposed to be, by some commentators, their being exhibited like wild beasts at public spectacles, held up as objects of scorn, derision, and contempt. They had " scourgings, yea, moreover, of bonds and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They wan- dered about in sheep-skins, and goat- skins; being destitute, afflicted, tor- mented; they wandered in deserts, in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth." In more modern times, the Albigenses of France, and the Waldenses in the valleys of Piedmont, were hunted and extirpated like wild beasts. John Huss and Jerome, of Prague, were burned at the stake, heroically contending for the faith, and went, as it were, in a fiery chariot to heaven. During the reign of Queen Mary, in England, Latimer, Rid^ ley, and a noble coni]:>any of others, boro testimony to the faitli wlien wrapped in flames of fire. One great trial of faith, in every age, has been the endurance of slander from those whose tongues are like sharp swords. The ancient Christians were defamed, and were made as the "filth of the earth, and the otfscouring of all 72 CHEISTAIN SIMILITUDES. things." They were charged with being the enemies of the government under which they lived, the disturbers of the public peace, the revilers of the gods and of true religion. They were even accused of the most abominable crimes, in order to prejudice the public mind against them. In one instance a heathen em- peror himself caused a city to be set on fire, and then charged it upon the Chris- tians, to excite public indignation against them. To be adjudged as the filth and off- scouring of the earth, was to be made a curse or sacrifice. We allude here to the custom of heathen nations, who, in a time of public calamity, chose out some men of a most despicable character to be a public expiation for them. These they maintained a whole year at the public expense, and then led them forth, crowned with flowers, as was customary ?n sacrifices; having heaped all the t urses of the country upon their heads, /.nd Avhipped them se\:en times, they burned them alive, and afterward their ;.'.shes were thrown into the sea, while Uie people said "Be our propitiation." The apostle, therefore, who speaks of Ihese trials of faith, means by it that he and his brethren were treated like those wretched beings who were judged to be fit for nothing but expiating victims to the infernal gods, for the safety and re- demption of the people. Tlie Divine Author of Christianity, when expiring on the cross for the sal- *"ation of the world, was derided and mocked by those whom he came to save. Those that passed by wagged their heads, in token of contempt, saying. You who pretended to be able to destroy the temple and build it again in three days, if you be the Son of God, and have such power, why do you not save yourself — why not come down from the cross? You have saved others, it is true, but you can not save yourself; and if you are the Son of God, as you pretend, let him save you. If you will come down from the cross, where we have put you, we will then believe you. Thus (O as- tonishing thought!) the Lord of life and glory " endured the contradiction of sinners against himself," and "desjiising the shame," has left his followers a bright example of meekness, patience, and endurance, under the most aggra- vated insults which can be offered. It has been the lot of some of God's people, when in their dying moments, to endure most " cruel mockings" from their enemies. Amid barbarous men, to whom they went on errands of love, the devoted heralds of the cross have been seized and put to death in extreme tor- tures. AVhile crying, in their last mo- ments, on the Lord Jesus to receive their souls, their dying groans have been mocked, the adorable name on which they called blasphemed, insulted, and derided as a being unable to deliver those who trust in him. Others have been burned to ashes, amid the triumph- ant shouts and derisive yells of demons in human form. CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES, 73 MATTHEW, Chap, vi: verse 13. COLOSSIANS, B Chap, iii: -^^ verse 9. Fq"^ ACTS, Chap, v: verses 2, 3. ISAIAH, Chap, lix : verse 6. 2 KINGS, Chap, viii: verses 12, 13. PEOYEEBS, Chaj). xi: verse 19. FOUR FATAL STEPS. • When lust hath conceived it bring eth forth sin, and sin, when it is finished, bring eth forth death. J as. i: 15. Behold in truthful types depicted here, Four downward steps in Error's mad career: First Debt, tlie parent source of many an ill. Incites to covet, keeps him anxious still; Then Falsehood comes, the debt he can not pay. Will prompt his lips a lying tale to say; Then Theft, that by dishonest means obtains The sum he can not raise by honest gains; Next, theft found out. Murder must then conceal The crime, his victim else would soon reveal- — Beyond all these, the dreary future shows, The hangman's gibbet is the fearful close. It is a direction of Infinite "Wisdom, through the Apostle, to "owe no man any thing;" which, though primarily spoken in reference to that love which we owe to one another, yet, no doubt, includes the pecuniary obligations due to our fellow-men. The wisdom of this command is apparent, when we see that an opposite course is opening the door to temptation, and places us on the di- rect road to ruin. One sin leads to another. One may strongly covet something which he does not possess, and which is not necessary that he should have. He has thus far led, it may be, an honest life, and peo- ple have confidence in his intcgrit}'. Taking advantage of this circumstance, he first borrows money of a neighbor, without intention of deceiving or de- frauding him in the slightest degree. He exj^ects to be able to return it by the time ap2)ointed; but he has not made any provision to meet any disappointment, and erred in not making his friend ac- quainted with his circumstances.- Ho has, however, taken a load on his shoulders which he does not know how to set down; ho has got into debt; he is on the first of the four fatal steps. 74 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES Thus involved in debt, the next downward step is that of lying. Having borrowed the sum wanted, he, for a time, felt easy ; and instead of taking measures to fulfill his obligations, he put oif till to- morrow what ought to have been done , to-day. The time of payment arrives and finds him unprepared. Perhaps he thinks his neighbor does not want the money, and it will not make much dif- ference whether he is paid this week or the next. He has broken his word, and begins to make excuses to his creditor. He attempts to represent his case in a more favorable light than it ought to be; he begins to prevaricate, and practices deception, perhaps, at first, on a small scale. He bori'ows of one person to pay another, it may be with still less pi-obability of meeting the new obligation than before. He practices deception on a larger scale, tells what he considers, a 5ma/Z Zi'e, and then, after a little, is guilty of a direct falsehood. The third fatal step downward is stealing. Having, by a course of decep- tion and lying, destroyed his credibility, he finds that no one will trust him with any thing on the strength of his word. He is pressed for money, and he knows of no means to obtain it excepting by fraud, stealing, and robbery. Having thus far possessed a decent exterior, and a regard for common moralit}^, he has facilities to perpetrate these crimes which others, more gross and wicked in their outward conduct, have not. He may, for a time, so manage as to escape the legal penalties of crime, but he is fast preparing himself to commit the greatest enormities. The fourth or last fatal step is mur- der., or the taking of human life, to con- ceal fraud or robbery. By a long course of deception, the mind of him who commenced his downward career by creating an unnecessary debt becomes, in a measure, seared and blinded. In fact he has succeeded in deceiving him- self. He has wished that there was no future world, where men are punished for crimes done in this. He has kept himself aloof from places where he mightgain instruction. He will notcome to the light lest his deeds be reproved. He has seen, it may be, many vil- lainies and outrages perpetrated which have been followed with the desired suc- cess ; and because punishment is not executed speedily, the heart is fully set to do evil. He finally brings him- self to believe that there is no hereaf- ter — that when a man dies that is the end of him. He has prepared himself for the commission of any crime in which human penalties are not involved. To escape this, and following the maxim, "dead men tell no tales," he will, to cbnceal his Avickedness, commit murder, and, in all probability, end his career on the gallows. Many well-known instances might be cited where the foregoing crimes have been committed in the order here de- scribed. No man becomes a villain at once. Inclined, as the unregenerate heart is, to sin, yet there is a first step in the path of every crime. At that point in the career of guilt, the man would have shuddered at the thought of deeds which he afterward performed without i*emorse. In cases where the highest crime is not committed, men are often totally ruined in consequence of getting into debt and practicing deception. A clerk in a store, a teller in a bank, an agent in his office, has peculiar temiJtations. How many have been ruined by making an unnecessary display in house- hold matters. He who is constantly handling the money of others is tempted, when in a strait, to use some small part of it for his own use, with the promise, perhaps, made to himself, that lie will restore it, and that speedily. But he finds it easier to borrow than to pay, when no one calls him to an account. The more he takes, the more CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 75 he "wants to take. He begins a course of extravagance, and falls into sins that requires money to secure the indul- gence. He speculates, in hope of paj;- ing all back at once; every plunge in- creases his embai'rassment ; his guilt breaks out ; he flies from justice, a lost, Belf-ruined man. In connection with this subject, it may be stated that lying is one of the most dishonorable and disgraceful acts of which human beings can be guilty. It is the mark of a mean and worthless spirit — a vice which early discovers itself in the human mind; and to dis- courage or eradicate it, no caution or attention can be too great or severe. As it is founded in the worst principles, so is it productive of the greatest evils, being not only bad in itself, but is used to cloak other offenses. " Simply to lie," says one, "is an offense; to lie in oi'der to conceal a fault, is a double of- fense; but to lie with a malicious pur- pose, with a view to predjudice others, is an offeuse aggravated tenfold, and truly diabolical. • Never, says a writer, addressing the young, "in a smaller or greater matter, suffer your lips to deviate from the truth; speak it honestly, openly, and without reserve ; you can not con- ceive how easily the mind is corrupted by the slightest indulgence in falsehood, by the least license given to little mean reservations, equivocations, and mental chicanery. Be assured that a fault is always doubled by denying it; an open, frank confession disarms resentinent and conciliates affection There is great reason to presume that those who are conscientious in their words, will be so in their actions . . . The least temptation to fraud must never be suffered to remain a moment in your heai'ts; dishonesty will blast your reputation and all your hopes; and it will be still worse in those who are intrusted with the charge of the property of others, for the breach of trust is one of the highest aggravations of an offense." 76 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES, EPHESIANS, Chap, iv: verse 14. COLOSSIANS, Chap, ii: verse 8. PSALM xxxvii : verse 32. MATTHEW, Chap, xxiv: verse 43. EEVELATION, Chap, iii : verse 2. 2 SAMUEL, Chap. XX : verses 9, 10. MATTHEW, Chap, xxii : verses 16, 17. PSALM verses 9, 10. THE co:n'cealed attack. Take heed that no man dfceiue you. Matt, xxiv : 4. The God of this iDorld hath blinded the minds of tJiem which believe not. 2 Cor. IV : 4. The opposing ranks that here the foe approach, Would stealthily upon their ranks encroach, Not with the blast of trumpet, or the sound Of martial music, waking echoes round ; But 'mid the smoke, whose curling wreaths arise Filling the landscape, blinding thus their eyes J Then drawing near, make a fierce attack, Rout the enemy, and drive them back. In the war with Mexico, a military officer, wishing to attack a strong po- sition of his opponents, felt that his success would be doubtful if his move- ments were seen. Having laid his plan to make the attack at a certain point, he threw forward, in front of the enemy's works, numerous smoke-balls, which he had prepared for the occasion. Soon a dense cloud of smoke arose over the whole field, which entirely concealed the approach of the Americans until they were almost within the works of the enemy. The attack was in such a covert and sudden manner, that no op- portunity was given the foe for effectual resistance, and the fortifications were easily taken. CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 77 This mode of attack has often been used to assail some important truth or doctrine of Cliristianity. It would not answer the purposes of its enemies to openly attack it. The assault must be ;made in a covert way; other issues and appearances are presented which con- ceal the real ajiproach, like the smoke- balls which shut off the vision from sur- rounding objects. In the first ages of Christianity, the heathen eraperoi-s and magisti'ates wished to destroy Chi'istianity. To accomplish this, it seemed necessary to put to death all who . embraced it. Such were the holy and blameless lives of the first Christians, that it would have been too shocking an outrage to murder them merely on account of their religious be- lief; therefore various crimes were laid to their charge. One of the heathen emperors set Rome on fire, and then chai'ged it upon the Christians. They were even accused of being cannibals, or eaters of human flesh, and also of sacrificing young children to their gods. By such, and kindi^ed means, the people became exas^Derated. Their vision was obscured as to the real object of the enemies of Christianity, by the clouds of indignation which arose on account of their supposed enormities. As if this was not sufficient to incite the m.ultitude to action, an ajjpeal was made to their fears. "These Christians," said they, "blaspheme our gods, whose anger is kindled against us and our country on their account ; else why do we witness such storms, tempests, inun- dations, and earthquakes. Before this hated sect arose, such things rarely hap- pened. To save ourselves and homes from ruin, to appease the anger of our deities, we must put these Christians to death." Under the cover of indignation against crime, on one hand, and of patri- otism and love of country, on the other, vast numbers of Christians throughout the Roman empire were slain. The rulers of the Jews wished to put to death the Son of God, who had given his testimony against their vices and crimes. But such was his beneficence and spotless purity, that they feared to lay their hands upon him. Some cover or cloud of smoke must be raised to con- ceal their real design. He was accused of speaking against the Mosaic religion, against their temple, and was a deceiver of the worst kind. They told the peo- ple that if he was suftered to live and teach his doctrines their country would be ruined, for " the Romans would come and take away both their place and na- tion." By this, and such like means, the Lord of life and glory was de- nounced, the multitude was set against him, their vision was obscured, and they cried out, "Away with him, let him bo crucified ! " When Paul declared, at Ephesus, ihaz "they be no gods which are made by men's hands," Demetrius and his felloAV- craftsmen filled the whole city with con« fusion, on account of their business being in danger. They made silver shrines, or models of the temple of Diana, where that goddess was wor- shiped at Ephesus, and by their sale obtained great wealth. They plainly saw that if the apostles were permitted to go on thus preaching, the Avorship of Diana would be destroyed, and their business ruined. Therefore, self-interest, more than the worship of Diana, caused the opposition to Paul at Ephesus. The cry of "great is Diana of the Ephesians " was used as a covert to drive him from the cit}-. More than forty of the Jews secretly banded together, and swore a solemn oath neither to eat nor to drink until they had killed him. Tlioir murderous design failed of its accomplishment only by the special interposition of Divine Providence. The object of the great enemy of man- kind is to introduce sin, in some form or other, into the world. To effect his pur pose, he conceals his movements from 78 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. his unsuspecting victims. He can even transform himself into an angel of light. As in the temptation in the garden of Eden, he promises some good to those who will follow his suggestions. Does Satan wish to destroy an institu- tion which the Savior of the world once honored with his presence, he ap- jjroaches his victims, speaking most af- fectionately of mutual love. " Is noo God himself declared to be Love ? How holy, then, is the passion ! You are all one in Christ Jesus." How elevated and enno- bling the thought! By and by the temjjter suggests, "If all are one, what one possesses is equally the property of all — what is mine is yours, and what is yours is mine. If you have any thing that I want more than what you do, can I not take it; even the wife of your bosom, is she not mine also? "We are freed from the yoke of the law, and we are so perfected in love that we can not sin." Seasonings like these may arise, and blind the soul to approaching foes. These mists of error conceal the advance of a deadly enemy. They may even be made to appear like the clouds of in- cense which axose in the holy temple. But we may be assured that in what- ever form such reasonings appear, they are but smoke-balls cast from the infer- nal pit, in order to deceive and ruin the soul. cheistia:^ similitudes. T9 GENESIS, Chap, xxxvii: verse 35. HEBEEWS, Chap, xii: verse 8. GENESIS, Chap, xxxix; verse 20. JOHN, Chap, xi: verse 4. PSALM cxix: verse 67. LAMENTA'NS, Chap, iii: verse 27. PEOVERBS, Chap, xvi : verse 9. EOMANS, Chap, viii: verse 28. CROSS-PROVIDENCES. As many as I love I rebuke and chasten. Rev. iii: 19. have seen the end of the Lord . . . tender mercy. James v : 11.- The angel of his presence saved them. Isa. lxiii : 6. Ye Behold ! before the weary traveler's eyes, A palace with its beauteous walls arise; With joy, he seems to see his journey end, Resolves beneath its roof the night to spend. He presses on, when suddSn in his way, A form angelic bids his footsteps stay ; He sees the glittering sword the pathway guard, Bemoans, perchance with tears, his fortune hard. The gulf yawns deep, but he sees it not. As an angel kind his footsteps stop; Tis Mercy's form across his pathway moves. And this cross-providence salvation proves. The traveler, somewhat wearied by his journey, has come in sight of a beautiful palace, where he hopes to re- pose, as he under.stands travelers can be accommodated there with little or no expense. Comforting himself with this prospect, he presses forward, until he is suddenly stopped by one whom he sup- poses to be an evil angel sent by the prince of darkness, who delights in the torment and misery of mankind. Ilis supposed enemy frowns upon him, stands across his pathway, sword in hand, com- pletely preventing his further progress in that direction. The traveler thinks that he is hardly 80 CHRISTAIN SI:^^,ILITUDES. dealt with ; perhaps murmurs and com- phxins that all his bright pi'ospects are destroyed, and is ready to say, "All these things are against me." Blind mortal! he does not know that just before him is an awful and yawning gulf, where many have fallen to rise no more. Had he been left to pursue the way to the man- sions where he expected so much happi- ness, he also would have perished like others before him. We can, doubtless, recollect in our ex- perience, that we have been almost im- perceptibly turned from a course which we have laid out for ourselves. It is quite possible that ministering angels have, by means unobserved, been eilently influencing our minds to pur- sue the right course; or, if such gentle means have foiled to turn us from the l^ath we are pursuing, violence has been used, and we have been forced to stop in our course. Something which we call a great misfortune, or cross-providence, has befiillen us, and we were tempted to murmur and repine at the ti'oubles which befell us. But have we not, many times had cause to rejoice that these af- flictive dispensations have proved mer- cies in disguise? For by them greater misfortunes, or perhajis our entire ruin, has been prevented. "Afflictions," says one, "are God's most effectual means to keep us from losing our way to our heavenly rest." With- out this hedge of thorns on the right hand and on the left, we should hardly keep the way to heaven. If there be but one gap open, how readj'^ are wo to find it and turn out at it ! When we grow wanton or proud, how doth sick- ness or other affliction reduce us ! Every Christian, as well as Luther, may well call affliction one of his best school-mas- ters, and, with David, may say, "Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now have I kept my word." Whenever the Almighty sends an ad- verse dispensation, or by cross-provi- dences, our path seems crossed or stopped up, it may be presumed to be with thia message, "Go draw that sinner or that- Christian from the love of the world ; go take away that comfort, he is going to make an idol of it ; go stop his pathway in that direction, for certain destruction awaits him if he proceeds further." The reasonableness of present afflic- tions will appear, that by their means Ave are induced to seek our true rest; that they keep us from mistaking it, and from losing our way to it; that our peace is quickened toward it; and, although for the present they are not joyous, but grievous, yet afterward they yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness. Many of those who have stood high in the fixvor of God have been exercised with sharp afflictions. Moses, whom God honored with the most condescending and familiar studies of himself, was tried by long afflictions. David, a man after God's own heart, was, for a long time, hurled to and fro by tempestuous perse- cutions from his unjust and implacable enemies. Isaiah, Avho was dignified with such heavenly visions that his de- scription of the suff'erings of Christ seems rather the history of an evangelist than the vision of a prophet, was, it is as- serted, sawn asunder. Providence is defined to be the super- intendence and care which God exercises over creation. It has, by some writei-s, been divided into immediate and medi- ate, ordinary and extaordinar}^, common and special, universal and particular. Immediate providence is that which is exercised by God himself, without the use of any instrument or second cause; mediate providence is what is exercised in the use of means, and by the chain of second causes ; extraordinary is what is oiit of the common way, as miraculous op- erations. Gowjnon providence is what be- longs to the whole world ; special, what relates to the church. Universal relates to the general upholding and preserving all things; particular relates to individ- uals in uvery action and circumstance. CnEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 81 With regard to particular providence, whicli is denied by some, a good writer observes: "The opinion entertained bj some that the providence of God extends no further than to a general superintend- ence of the laws of nature, without in- terposing in the particular concerns of individuals, is contrary both to reason and Scripture. It renders the govern- ment of the Almighty altogether loose and contingent, and would leave no ground for reposing any trust under its protection ; for the majority of human affairs would then be allowed to fluctu- ate in a fortuitous course, without mov- ing in any regular direction, and with- out tending to any one scope. "The uniform doctrine of the sacred writings is, that throughout the universe nothing happens without Clod — that his hand is ever active, and that his decree, or permission, intervenes in all; that nothing is too great or unwieldy for his management; and nothing so minute and inconsiderable as to be below his inspection and cai'e. "While ho is guid- ing the sun and moon in their course through the heavens; while in this in- ferior world he is ruling among emj^ires, stilling the raging of the water and the tumults of the people, he is, at the same time, watching over the humble, good man, who, in the obscurity of his cottage, is serving and worshiping him." In what manner Providence influences and directs the thoughts and councils of men, and still leaves tiiem to the freedom of their choice, is a subject of dark and mysterious nature, and which has given rise to many an intricate con- troversy. It is clear from the testimony from Scripture, that God takes part in all that hap- pens among mankind, directing and overruling the wliole course of events, so as to make every one of them answer the designs of his wise and righteous government. It is upon the sup- position of a particular providence that our worship and prayers to him are founded. All his perfections would he utterly insignificant to us if thev were not exercised, on every occa- 24 sion, according to the circumstances of his crea- tures. In how many instances have we found that we are held in subjection to a higher power, on whom depends tlie accomplishment of our wishes and designs?' Fondly we have pro- jected some favorite plan. We thought we had provided for all that might happen; but lo! some little event has come about unseen by us, and its consequences, at the fir.st seemingly inconsiderable, which yet hath turned the whole course of things into a new direction, and blasted all our hopes. At other times our counsels and plans have been pei-mitted to suc- ceed; we then applauded our own wisdom, and sat down to feast on the happiness we had attained. To our surprise, happiness was not there, and that God's decree had appointed it to be only vanity. From the imperfection of our knowledge to ascertain what is good for us, and from the defect in our power to bring about that good when known, arise all those disaporntments which continually testify that the way of man is not in himself, and that, though he may devise, it is God who directs. Accident, and chance, and fortune are words often men- tioned, and much is ascribed to them in the life of man. But they are words without meaning; or, as far as they have any significa- tion, they are no other than names for the un- known operations of Providence. That chaos of human aflairs, where we can see no light, that mass of disorder and con- fusion which they often present to our view, is all clearness and order in the sight of Him who brings forward every event in its due time and place. Whatever may happen to the true Christian, and whatever cross-provi- dences mav close up the path he is pursuing, he may feel assured that it is done in kind- ness to save him from evils of which at pres- ent he has no conception Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds yc so much dreiid Are big with "mercy and shall break In blessings on your head. His purposes will ripen fast. Unfolding every hour; The bud may h;ive a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower. 82 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 1 CORINTn'NS, Chap, xii : verse 25. GALATIANS, Chap, vi : verse 2. EOMANS, Chap, xiv: verse 7. EPHESIANS, Chap, iv: verse 25. 1 CORINTH'NS, Chap, xvi: verse 16. *^ ECCLESIAST'S ROMANS, Chap. XV : verses 1, 2. 2 C0RINTIII'N3 Chap, viii: verse 14. MUTUAL DEPENDENCE. For if they shall fall, the one shall I ft up his fellow. Eccl. rv: 10. Look not every man on his own ihbiys, but every man on the things of others. Phil, ii: 4. When up the Alps the party would ascend, Then each on each for help and strength depend; Close linked by cords, which each and all have bound, They venture safely o'er the dangerous ground; If one should slip, the cord that holds him fast, Sustains till help arrives, and danger's past. Thus, as we walk on life's rude paths, we leam That friend to friend for help and cheer must turn; Affection's cords in ties of union blend, That link them closely to their journey's end. The engraving shows a number of travelers who are ascending Mount Blanc, sometimes called the giant of the Swiss Mountains. It is extremely- difficult and dangerous to ascend its summit, it being in many places broken into icy peaks, separated by chasms of frightful depths. Some of these are concealed by mere crusts of snow, over which travelers are obliged to pass. Extremely narrow ridges, slanting and abrupt declivities, abound, where a false step would precipitate the passenger, a mangled corpse, perhaps, thousands of feet below. To prevent themselves from sliding, or falling to certain destruction, travelers on the perilous passage furnish them- CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES 83 selves with a long pole or strong cord. Should any one make a false step, and slip, the rope to which ho clings will save him, being held firmly by his com- panions; or should he sink through the snow into some hidden chasm, his being attached to the rope will save him, though he may, for a time, be suspended danixlinir over destruction. This representation is a good emblem to illustrate the advanta^-o of beinoj connected with our fellow-beings by some bond of union. A man who walks by himself is liable to many dangers, from which he would be pro- tected if his companions were with him. Should he stumble and break his limbs by falling into a pit, which would prevent his effort to rise, how lamentable his condition; he will starve and die, unheeded by his fellow-men, because ho had no companions in the hour of his misfortune. It is not always the strongest, phj's- ically or spiritually, who seem or claim to be the strongest, and no man is so robust and vigorous as to be absolutely independent of his fellow-man. Hence the advantages and necessity of Chris- tian fellowship and communion, where- by Avatch and care are extended over brethren and sisters in the Lord b^'' kindred spirits. "Two," in the words of Solomon, "are better than one; for if one shall fiill, the other shall lift up his fellow; but woe to him who is alone when he fallcth, for he has none to lift him up." The high importance of having com- panions with us in the hour of trial, is also Avell illustrated by an adventure of a company of botanists, who, in their explorations, encountered a terrific snow-storm on the island of Terra del Fuego. One of the party, Dr. Solander, aware of the eflPect of extreme cold to produce sleep, and that death would ensue to the person so overcome, who should yield to it and lie down, urged all his companions by no means, through lassitude, to stop, but keep moving. "Whoever," he told the party, "sits down will sleep, and whoever sleeps will die." The companions of Dr. Solander heeded his counsel, and it was well for him who gave it, for by it he himself was saved. Notwithstanding the doc- tor's timely and judicious warning, he Avas the first whose senses were stupi- fied, and who sunk upon the ground. Death was at hand. Ilis companions followed the direction of their teacher ; by force they roused him from his leth- argy, nor would not suffer him to sit down, but kept him moving until they conducted him to a place of safety. In civil affairs it is necessary to have some bond of union to the several members of a confederacy. Where ^ there is none, nor sympathj'" with each other, they are peculiarly exposed to the attacks of insidious enemies, who can attack and easily subvert them ia detail. To maintain their independence, and also their individual safety, it is necessary that each should feel their mutual dependence on each other's ex- ertions for their own and general good. Many things exist in our social sys- tem which, at the first, may seem to bo useless, but which we shall find, upon examination, to be necessary for the well-being of the whole. The Apostle, in his letter to his Corinthian brethren, in comparing the members of the Church with the members of the human body,' argues that as all of them are dependent upon each other, so all the members of the Christian Church, with their varied talents and occupations, and even those which are lightly esteemed are necessary for the perfection of the whole. The celebrated apologue, or fable, of .Uenenius Agrippa, the Eoman consul and general, may serve to illustrate the subject of mutual dependence. The Roman people were led into a state of insurrection accainst their rulers, under the pretext that they not only had all 84 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. the honors, but all the emoluments of the nation, while they were obliged to bear all the burdens and suffer all the privations. Matters were at last brought to such an issue that their rulers were obliged to flee. Anarchy now pre- vailed, the public peace was broken, and ruin seemed impending. The con- sul and general, being, high in the es- teem of the insurgents, was sent to quiet these disturbances. Having as- sembled the disorderly multitude, he addressed them in the following man- ner : "In that time in which the different parts of the human body were not in such a state of unity as they now are, but each member had its separate office and distinct language ; they all became discontented, because whatever was procured by their care, labor, and in- dustry was spent on the stomach and intestines, while they, lying at ease in the midst of the body, did nothing but enjoy whatever was provided for them. They, therefore, conspired among themselves, and agreed tliat the hands should not convey food to the mouth; that the mouth should not receive what was offered to it; and that the teeth should not masticate whatever was brought to the mouth. Acting on this principle of revenge, and hoping to re- duce the stomach by famine, all the members, and the whole body itself, were, at length, brought into the last stage of consumption. It then plainly appeared that the stomach itself did no small service ; that it contributed not less to their nourishment than they did to its support, distributing to every part that from which they derived life and vigor; for, by concocting the food, the pure blood derived from it was conveyed by the arteries to every mem- ber." It is easy to discern how the consul applied this fable. The sensible simil- itude produced the desired effect. The people were convinced that it required the strictest union and mutual support of high and low to preserve the body politic; that if the members of a com- munity refuse the government that necessary aid which its necessities re- quire, they must all perish together. Move, and actuate, and guide, Divers gifts to each divide ; Placed according to thy will, Let us all our work fulfill; Never from our office move, Needful to each other prove. CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 85 ZECHAEIAH, Chap, ix: verse 12. DEUTERO'MY, Chap, xxxii: ik verse 4. 1 SAMUEL, Chap, ii: Ja verse 2. 2 SAMUEL, Chap, xxii: verse 47. MATTHEW Chap, vii: verse 25. PSALM Ixii: verse 7. HEBEEWS, Chap, vi: verse 18. DEUTERO'MY, Chap, xxxiii: verse 27. THE ROCK OF REFUGE. An hiding -jilace from the ivind, and a covert from the tcmjyest. Isa. XXXII : 2. The Lord is my rock, and my fortress; . . my buckler, . . and my high tower. Ps. xviii : 2. When the lone traveler, journeying on his way, Through desert wilds in torrid lands will stray; As sudden storms and hurricanes arise, And raging tempests darken all the skies, Quick to a place of refuge he must flee; No human habitation can he see, And soon no shelter would it be, if found; The furious winds will level to the ground. He may not seek a shelter near the oak, Its sturdy trunk is broken by the stroke; Nearer and nearer howls the angry blast, Still bringing rain as it rushes past; But the great Rock against the storm is sure, He hastens to its clefts, and stands secure. The traveler, when passing; through certain countries subject to hurricanes and tempests, mtist, when these arise, in order to escape from their fury, have some place of refuge to flee to and hide himself from the sweeping storm. The observer sees in the distance un- mistalcable tokens of the angry tempest approaching. The clouds, lowering, move rapidly onward ; the lightnings flash, the wind roars, the thunder growls near, and still nearer. Tl)e trav- eler is affrighted; he looks around for a covert, or place of refuge. He may bo tempted to flee to some human structure, but the tempest, which is ap- proaching, will sweep away every thing constructed by the skill or power of 86 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES, man, and all who take refuge therein will perish in its ruins. He may, perhaps, place confidence in the sturdy oak, which strikes its roots dee]) into the earth; he may clasp it round, and, facing the wild commotion, think to escape its fury, but all in vain; the monarch of the forest will/ be laid prostrate; its strong cords which bound it to the earth will be broken, and all who placed confidence in it will perish beneath its crushed branches. Nothing can withstand the fury of the winds but the solid rock. The wise traveler discovers this, and flees to it for a shelter. Within its clefts he feels secure, though storms and tempests rage without; his hiding-place is in the everlasting hills, which can not bo moved. This a striking similitude of the safety of those who trust in Christ, as the Eock of their salvation. The Scriptures represent that there is a storm of indignation coming, which will sweep into perdition the whole race of ungodly men. The wicked are warned of their danger; the clouds in the distance are gathering blackness; they are told that nothing will save them but fleeing to the Eock. A vast number will not heed the warning, will not so much as turn their eyes to the heavens to ascertain the truth of what they hear; they continue, it may be, with their eyes fixed upon the ground in gathering the little pebbles and straws which lie before them, till overwhelmed by the storm. Others make something else than the Eock their trust, but miserably perish in the time of trial, while those who heed the warning flee to the Eock whose founda- tions are of old, hide themselves in its clefts, and are eternally safe. Rock of Ages ! cleft for me. Let me hide myself in thee; Let the water and the blood, From tbj side, a healing flood, Be of sin the double cure. Save from wrath, and make me pure. Should my tears forever flow, Should my zeal no languor know, This for sin could not atone. Thou must save, and thou alone; In my hand no price I bring, Simply to thy cross I cling. While I draw this fleeting breath, When mine eyelids close in deatli, When I rise to worlds unknown, And behold thee on thy. throne. Rock of Ages ! cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee. "When the Spirit of Truth makes inquisition for sin," says a religious writer, "guilt is then felt, because man beholds himself a child of wrath by nature, and a condemned criminal by means of his practice. In this salutary but unhapp}^ stage of things, he often looks behind, and every glance discovers blacker darkness and nearer approach- ing storms." He looks around him; he sees no place of shelter in which he can confide. It is a time of trouble and dismay. What an unspeakable com- fort to discover the Eock of Ages, to which he can flee for safety, and in its recesses hide himself from the sweeping tempest — to find Jesus Christ, the Savior of sinners, "a hiding-place from the storm, and covert from the tempest." Safe in him, the thunders of the broken law may echo forth all their condemna- tion; safe in him, the sword of vengeance and of justice, like the fluid stream, may blaze on every side, yet the soul can rest secure. The firm and , lofty rock is used in various parts of the Scriptures as an emblem of certain refuge, safety, de- fense, and happiness. When the sun pours down his fervid heat upon the great desert, and the traveler is faint- ing amid its burning sands, what more refreshing than to repose beneath the " shadow of a Great Eock in a weary land." CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 87 "T^y to the Rock!'' is often a necessary direction to those Avho venture among the sands along the rocky sea- shore. The traveler pursuing his pathway along the iron-bound shore, finding it painful to his feet, ventures on the smooth sands below. The tide is out, the sea is calm, the waves are a long way off; he thinks there can be no danger, so he walks on. Presently the wind begins to rise; still he thinks there can be no danger, it is only rounding that jutting cliff, there is plenty of time, and then he will be safe. Meanwhile the sea comes gradu- ally on, wave after wave, like so many horsemen in battle array, riding one after the other. Every moment they advance a step or two; and before the man has got to the jutting cliff, he sees them dashing against his feet. What is he to do? On one side is a steep and rugged ledge of rocks ; on the other side the sea, which the wind is lashing into a storm, and is rushing toward him in foaming fury. Would a man in such a plight think of losing another moment? Would he stop to consider whether he should not hurt his hands by laying hold of the sharp stones? Would ho not strain every nerve to reach a place of safety before the waves would overtake him? If his slothfulness whispered to him, *'It is of no use, the ledge is very steep; you may fall back when you have got half waj'^; stay where you are, perhaps the winds may lull and[ the waves may stop short, and so you will be safe here," — if his slothfulness prompted such thoughts as these, would ho listen to them? Would he not reply, "Hard as the task may be, it must be tried, or I am a dead man. God will not work a miracle in my behalf; he will not change the course of tides to save mo from the effects of my own laziness. I have few minutes left, let me make the most of them." The scene is not one of mere fancy. Many accounts are given of the risk which has been run by neglecting to flee from a rising tide. Some, by great efforts, aided by God's providence, have escaped a watery grave; others have been overwhelmed, and perished amid the mighty waters. The man who is about to be overtaken by the flowing tide is a similitude of the sinner away from Christ, the Eock of Salvation. On one side of him is the steep ledge of Repentance; on the other the waves of the bottomless pit are every moment rolling toward him, and even beginning to surround his pathway. Is this a situation for a man to stop in? AVill any one in such a situation talk about the difficulty of repentance? If wise, he will not, but will put forth all his efforts to ascend the cliff, which, if he accomplishes, all will be well; for his feet stand upon a firm foundation, against which the angry wavea may dash in vain. AYhatever we do for our salvation should be done in time, and with all our might. We ouii:ht not to defer it until we are encompassed with the waves of death. Kepent now, there- fore; flee to the Rock of Refuge, for now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation. 88 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES, PROYEEBS, Chap, xxviii: verse 26. ECCLESIASTS, Chap, x: verse 3. PSALM Ixxxii : verse 5- ACTS, Chap, xvii : verse 30. EOMANS, Chap. X : verse 3. 2 PETER, Chap, iii : verses 3, 4. ECCLESIAST'S, Chap, viii: verse 11. COLOSSIANS, Chap, ii: verse 8. IGNORANCE AND FALSE PHILOSOPHY. The loay of a fool is right in his own eyes. Prov. xii : Professing themseloes to be ivise, they became fools. Porn, i Without understoMcUng. Rom. i : 31. 15. 99 Mistaken fool, who with the candle's light, Would view the dial's figures in the night ; He seems to know not that the sun's bright ray Must cast the shade that marks the hour of day. Another proof of ignorance is plain. The boy who would the shining moon obtain; He sees the glittering object in the skies. Anil all in vain to grasp the treasure tries; The barking dog, with human sense unblest. Seems here to share the folly of the rest. Near by, a structure more for show than use, Essays perpetual motion to produce. Mistaken all, their ignorance is plain, For false philosophy must toil in Tain. A person claiming to be a philosopher, is endeavoring to ascertain the time of night by the sun-dial. He understands that the true time is ascertained by the shade which is cast on certain figures from the upright part of the dial. This is perfectly true, but this shade is only cast when the sun is shining bright and clear ; moonlight or candle-light is of no avail; it is worse than none, as it will mislead all who trust in it. Of this all- essential fact this philosopher appears to be in profound ignorance; he even holds up a candle to assist him in his investigations. On the I'ight of the engraving is seen CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 89 an ignorant boy, crying out for the moon, which loolis so bright that he is quite captivated by its appearance, and he thinks he can almost reach it with the rod he has in his hand. The dog that is near hira is also attracted by its bright appearance ; perhaps he thinks it is a strj,nger who is approaching him ; he therefore gives a bark of defiance. On the left, near the sun-dial, is an appa- ratus for producing perpetual motion — the great desideratum among inventors. Our philosopher has spent considerable time over it, and feels confident that he has nearly, if not quite, accomplished his object. To ascertain what is truth respecting the progress of time, it is necessary that we have the light of the sun, as we can not place any dependence on any inferior luminary. No confidence can be placed in the light of the moon, although bor- rowing what light it has from the sun. In a religious sense, would we gain a knowledge of the truth, we must have light from the Father of Light, the great moral Sun of the universe. Do we trust in the light of our own under- standing merely? we make ourselves fools, Uke unto the philosopher repre- sented with the candle in his hand, standing over a sun-dial. And if we expect to derive any valuable or saving knowledge except from the Great Light above the centre of the universe, we show our ignorance and folly as mnch as the child who expects to reach, by his puny efforts, one of the luminous objects in the heavens. In all our investigations in search of truth, we must do it in the light of cer- tain great principles, or facts. We must believe in a God who overrules and superintends all things; that he is a holy, just, and good being, who will pun- ish the wicked and reward the righteous. We must have an entire faith in the Revelation which he has given us in his Word; what it teaches concerning the attributes or character of God, or that of ourselves, we must believe, however opposed to our previous notions or con- clusions. Those nations who have never known the divine Scriptures, or rejected the light of Christianity, have become vain or foolish in their imaginations or reasonings. Speaking of the wisest of the ancient philosophers, not even excepting Socra- tes, Plato, or Seneca, " who," says an eminent commentator, "can read their works without being struck with the vanity of their reasoning, as well as with the stupidity of their nonsense, when speaking of God ? . . . In short, 'professing themselves to be wise, they became fools;' they sought God in the place in which he is never to be found, viz. : the corrupting passions of their own hearts. ... A dispassionate ex- amination of the doctrines and lives of the most famed philosophers "of anti(iuity, will show that they were darkened in their mind and irregular in their con- duct. It was from the Christian religion alone that true philosophers sprung," It is true that many of the heathen nations acknowledge the great truth that tliere is a Supreme Being; but view- incr him in the light of their own under- standing, they, by there false philosophy, brought themselves to believe that he was a being like unto themselves. The finest representation of their deities, (for they had many,) was in the human fii^ure ; and on such representative figures the sculptors spent all their skill ; hence the Hurcules of Farnese, the Venus of Medicis, and the Apollo of Belvidere. And when they had formed their gods according to the humon shape, they en- dowed them with human passions ; and as they clothed them with extraordinary strength, beauty, wisdom, etc., not hav- ing the true principles of morality, tliey rei)resentcd them as slaves to the most disorderly passions, excelling in irregu- larities the most profligate of men, as possessing unlimited powers of sensual gratification. . . . IIow men of such 90 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. powers and learning, as many of the Greek and Roman philosophers and poets really were, could reason so inconsecu- tively, is truly astonishing." Previous to the Christian era, and even now where the light of Christianity does not shine, almost every trace of original righteousness has been obliter- ated. So completely lost were the hea- then to a knowledge of the influence of God upon the soul, and the necessity of that influence, they, according to their false philosophy, asserted, in the most pathetic manner, that man was the au- thor of his own virtue and wisdom. Thus Cicero, the Roman orator, declares it to be a general opinion that although mankind receive from the gods the out- ward conveniences of life, "but virtue none ever thought they had received from the Deity." And again: "This is the persuasion of all, that fortune is to be had from the gods — wisdom from our- selves." And again: "Who ever thanked the gods for his being a good man? Men pray to Jupiter, not that he would make them just, temperate, and wise, but rich and prosperous." The consequences of adopting as truth other systems than that which is derived from the light that cometh from above, is forcibly described by Paul in the 1st chapter of Romans: "A vain or false philosophy, without right principle or end, was substituted for those diverse truths which had been discovered origi- nally to man. Their hearts had been contaminated by every vice that could blind the understanding, pervert the judgment, corrupt the will, and debase the aft'ections and passions. This was proved, in the most unequivocal manner, by a profligacy of conduct which had debased them far, far below the beasts that perish." The Apostle here gives a list of their crimes, every article of which can be incontrovertibly proved fi'om their own history and their own writers — crimes which, even bad as the world is now, would shock common de- cency to describe. In more modern times, several systems have been introduced into the world for the improvement of the human race: by gathering them into communities, fixing several fixed rules of government, etc., which, could they be fully adopted and fol - lowed, it would seem quite possible that they might succeed ; but by rejecting the prominent truth, that man is naturally a depraved creature, and discarding a Divine Revelation, the only light by which truth is discovered, almost with- out an exception, every one of these at- tempts have proved miserable failures. The founders of these systems are like the philosopher who attempts to find out the true time by the light of the moon, or the attempt of the boy with his rod to reach that luminary, or like the in- ventor who constructs a machine for perpetual motion, expecting that it will move continually by its own unaided force. CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES n joim, Chap, i: verse 5. PSALM xcvii : verse 2. JOB, Chap, xxxvi: verse 26. PSALM cxlv : verse 3. PSALM cxlvii: verse 5. 2 PETER, ChajD. iii: verse 8. PSALM cxxxix: verses 7, 10. REVELATION, Chap, xxii: verse 13. THE mCOMPREIIENSIBLE. Canst tliou^ hy searching, find out God? Job xi: 7. VTIdch is, and which ivas, and ivhich is to come. Rev. i: 8. 0, the depth . . of the wisdom of God, how unsearchable his judg- ments, and his ways past finding out. Rom. xi: 33. In vain the sages, with their utmost skill, Would find out God — he is mystery stilll In vain they search the page of ancient lore, In vain the scrolls of centuries past explore. The mystic circle and triangle see, The types that shadow forth Infinity — The circle, endless as eternity, And the triangle showing one in three. Without beginning, past their finding out; In vain they seek to solve perplexing doubt: Wearied with search, at last one looks above, When lo! a ray of heavenly truth and love Steals softly downward to his darkened mind, Seeming to say, All earthly light is blind; Leave, then, the paths of human search untrod, Content to know and feel the love of God, The engraving is intended to repre- sent the philosophers of various ages, closely engaged in poring over the manuscripts and books which contain the records of human thought, ancient and modern, upon the being and attri- butes of God. The systems of Pythag- oras, Plato, Zeno, and other ancient philosophers, are being examined; also the various systems of modern times. Above the group are seen the emblems of that Being of whose nature they are so earnestly searching out. A circle is represented, showing that ho is without beginning; a triangle is also seen, show- ing three in one, and one of three. 92 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES, Among the philosophers represented, one has come to a stand; he appears to have been almost wearied out in his searchings, and has laid aside his man- uscripts and books. He is convinced that all human theories are utterlj' in- competent to describe the being and the attributes of God. Despairing of all help from man, he looks upward, as if to implore assistance from the Divine Being. In answer to humble praj^er beams of light and glory descend from above. lie believes; his soul is filled; he loves and adores I but he compre- hends not. "Without beginning! O, how incom- prehensible, how overwhelming the thought ! Eeason is amazed, bewildered, but she is forced to believe. Else why are we here? Some being must have made ns, and all that we see or hear ; and he that made us must himself be unmade — he that is unmade must bo eternal, or without beginning; and that which is before all things, and without beginning is the incomprehensible God. The great and glorious being whom we call God must be eternal. There must have been a time when he existed alone, and there was never a time when he did not exist. As God has existed eternally in the past, so he will exist in the eternity to come. "No possible reason," says one, "can be given why he should cease to be. There is no greater being upon whom he is depend- ent for existence, or who could take it awa}^ ; and in his nature or essence there is no principle of decay. The eternity of God, comprehending the past as well as the future, is thus ex- pressed by the inspired writer : " Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting thou art God." Although angels and human spirits may exist in the eternity to come, yet there is an important difference in the nature of their existence from that of the Deity. They are not necessarily immortal, and there is no contradiction or absurdity in supposing them to be annihilated, or struck out of existence. There was a time when they were not, "and all that can be said of them is," says a celebrated writer, "that having begun, they shall never cease to exist. Their life will flow on without inter- mission, and they will ever continue in a progressive state. Their continuance in life is the result of the Avill of their Creator; and besides, if we may so speak, they have only a half an eternity al- lotted to them as their portion, the half which is to come; while eternal ages had passed away before they were called out of nothing." The existence of God is not like that of his creatures, progressive, but com- prehends what we call the past, the present, and the future. These are the divisions of time ; but the first and the last have no place in the duration of the Supreme Being. The revelation given us in the Bible confirms the nat- ural dictates of our reason, in the ac- counts which it gives us of the- exist- ence of God; where it tells us that he is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever; that he is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the ending; that a thousand years with him are as one day, and one day as a thousand years. By expressions like these we are taught that the existence of God, as to time and duration, is totally different from that of his creatures, which fact makes it incomprehensible to any created be- ing. In a being who had no beginning, succession or progression is impossible. We can conceive a future infinite suc- cession, or line continually extending; but we can not conceive a past infinite succession, or a time which had not a beginning. "Whatever difiiculty we may have in annexing an idea to our words," says Dr. Dick, "we must pro- nounce the eternity of God to be eta- CHUISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 93 tionary, and not like ours, in motion." It may be objected that there is in tlie Scriptures exjn-essions by which his eternity is described b}' differences in time, jiarticuhirly that which describes him as one "who was, and is, and is to come." But it may be answered that human language is imperfect, and that there are no words which can properly express the stable nature of his eternity, and when we speak of it we are under the necessity of using words in common use founded on the divisions of time. From this cause, also, when wo speak of the other perfections of God, we have to use terms which attribute corporeal members and human affections to the Deity; thus, The eye of the Lord is over all ; his liand is stretched out; he is angnj with the wicked, etc. With regard to space — the creation of Crod — what is its extent? Where is its beginning or ending? These ques- tions force themselves upon us; we are bewildered; they are incomprehensible as Deity itself "Where," says a cele- brated writer, "is the region in which God may not be found? Go to the most dismal spot upon the globe — to a sjiot, if such there be, where no plant grows, where no creature breathes; in this lone solitude you shall find him in the eternal snow which covers it, in the rocks which rear their dark j^inna- cles to the sky, and in the waves which beat upon its desolate shores!" Go into the wilderness, where no human foot has trod, and you shall see him in every thing which lives — the bird that sings among the branches, the waving grass, and beauteous flowers, all live, move, and have their being in him! Look up to the heavens! behold the shining stars, who can number them? Who lit up the fires with wliich they fflow? who fjxiides them in their course but the same Being whoso center is every-where, and whoso circumference is nowhere? Who, by searching, can find out God? who can find out the Ahiiighty to perfection ? We feel assured that he possesses certain attri- butes which we designate hy names by which we distinguish certain excellencies among men. We ascribe to him every idea of virtue and spiritual beauty exalted to infinite perfection. "But how," says another writer, "the Divine Being himself exists in an essential and eternal nature of his own; how he can be present at the same moment every-where; how, unseen and unfelt by all, he can maintain the most perfect acquaintance and contact with all parts and portions of the universe; how he can be at once all eye, all ear, all presence, all energy', yet not interfere with any of the thoughts and actions of his creatures, this is what baffles the mightiest and meanest intellect; this is the great mystery of the universe, wliich is at once one of the most certain and incomprehensiblo of all things — a truth at once enveloped in $» flood of light, and an abyss of darlm MATTHEW, Chap, v: verse 20. THE UNSAFE BRIDGE. The hope of unjust men pcrisheth the wicked he turncth upside down Prov. XI: 7.- Ps. cxLvr: 0. The loay of There is a xcay that seemcth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the loays of death. Proc. xvi: 25. The heedless traveler on hia journey see, Passing from Time into Eiernity; The bridge, unsafe, he treads with willing feet, Nor seems to fear the ruin he must meet; It rests upon false doctrines, sandy banks. Frail structure! unsupported are its planks ; He heeds no warnings, knows not that the tide Will sweep away the bridge in ruin wide, While raging billows foam, dash to and fro, lie quickly falls, and sinks in depths below ! ' The man who passes from time to eteniity, regardless of the great truths of Cliristiauity, may be compared to a traveler who undertakes to cross a deep and wide streani on a frail and unsafe bridge, which gives way under a slight pressure, or by the wearing of waters. Tho main loundatiou on which this bridge rests are tho sandy banks of False Doctrine, tho main timbers of which are Presumption and A'ain Hope, and tho planks of various kinds of human merit Tho heedless traveler, without due ex- amination, fearlessly passes on, until the framework, and ever}' ihing else con- nected with it, gives way, when ho is at 104 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES, once precipitated into, and is lost in the mighty waters. Many false systems of religion are ex- tant, each of which claims to be suf- ficient to conduct one in safety from time to a happy eternity. When the day of trial arrives, they will all be found una- vailing, and as unsafe as a bridge founded upon a bank of sand. "A person not knowing the nature of the soil on which the main timbers of such a structure rests, will be apt to be- lieve that the bank is sufficiently dura- ble to resist the action of the stream, and the bridge itself strong enough to bear him to a place of safety. It is true, he may have had some intimations of its insecurity, but as tbcse warnings came from persons whom he considei'S as rather weak-minded, and disposed to look on the dark side of things, he does not feel disposed to take their advice. He has been informed that there is another bridge which is indeed safe, but as it is some distance off, and the road which leads to it difficult, he determines to venture himself on the one near at hand, especially as he sees the great mass of travelers are going the same way. The great Lord of the country has ordained that all travelers shall leave this part of his dominions at a fixed lime, whether they go willingly or not. He wishes them all to go to a better land, prepared for all those who love and obey him. He has erected, at an imra.ense expense, a safe bridge, and sent out his servants to invite and intrcat all travelers to come, and pass over without money and without price ! He has also prepared delightful mansions for all who will accept his kind invitations, and in- structed his servants to warn all against attempting to cross the iinsafo bridge, telling them that they will be lost if they venture on such a frail structure. An evil prince, the enemy of the Lord of the country, has laid the foundations for the unsafe bridge, and has had the direction in furnishing the materials. He also has servants under him, whom he sends abroad to induce tx'avelers to pass over his bridge, which he repre- sents as entirely safe, and even contra- dicts the assertion that all will be lost who attempt to pass over. This arch-enemy of God and man has thus far deceived the greater part of the human family. All Avho come on to the bridge he considers as his subjects, and when they fall into the depths be- low, they sink into the regions of dark- ness and despair. They then find in- deed that they are lost, that they are forever excluded from the abodes of the blessed above, there being between them and that happy place a great gulf, over which no one can pass. It is sometimes the case that those who venture on this unsafe structure become convinced of its frail nature, and of its utter insufficiency to bear up a person from the gulf of perdition. Considering the many warnings they have slighted, the proftered mercies they have rejected, they feel that they are justly condemned, and have for- feited all claims on the divine compas- sion. Knowing, by melancholy experi- ence, that they possess no power of themselves to help themselves, and having no expectation that God will help them, thinking that the day of their calamity has come, despair seizes tliem, and they at once cast themselves into the depths below. Presumption is one of the main sup- ports which give a specious strength to the unsafe bridge. 3Iany ai-e ruined by so presuming on the mercy of God as utterly to forget his justice. Al- though he has expressly declared, ''With- out holiness no man shall see the Lord," 3'et they flatter themselves that, live as they may, they shall in the end come out right. They feel that they love their sins, and that, after all, they are not so bad as the Bible represents; that they are of little importance; that CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 105 God will overlook them, or if ho does not, they will be let off with some slight punishment. It is true, the Bible, in its literal sense, seems to denounce awful punishments against the wicked, but they persuade themselves that God is too merciful to punish in this manner; these threatenings may mean son\ething else. Others, perhaps, persuade themselves that it they have faith merely, it is suf ficient to save them ; that Christ has done all things for them, they are com- plete in him, etc. No matter what sins they commit thej' can not be lost, for faith will save them, evidently forget- ting what the Apostle says, that "Faith without works is dead, being alone."' Some have gone so far as to renounce the outward forms of religion, treating them with contempt, esteeming them as "carnal ordinances," which persons of their knowledge and discernment are not bound to observe. Othei-s have even advocated the direct violation of God's law, (strange as it may appear,) under the profession of superior sanc- tity ; of being "all one in Christ Jesus," while indulging their -beastly appetites; prating about liberty, while "they are the servants of corruption." 106 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES, MARK, Chap, xi: verse 22. LUKE, Chap, xviii: verse 17. ISAIAH, Chap. Ivii: verso 15. COLOSSIANS, Chap. 1 : verse 27. ROMANS, Chap, viii : verse 19. 1 THESS. Chap, v: verse 23. GALATIANS, Chap, iv: verses 5-7. PSALM Ixxiii: verse 24. SEVEN UPWARD STEPS. Thou wilt show me the path of life. Ps. xvi: 11. They go from strength to strenf/th. Ps. lxxxiy : 7. T/tej^aihofthejust shineth . . more and more unto the 'perfect day. Proc. iv : 18. Skvkh upward steps in Christian life we see, First Faith sincere, and then Humility ; Then the Repentance shown to God and man, And Hope that eager grasps salvation's plan; Then Expectation of the joys to come, Promised the Christian in his heavenly home. Sanctification, next within the soul, And blest Adoption, surety of the whole; While Glory over all sheds luster down, And Angels point him to the starry crown; As hopes like these the Christian's life employ, The Cross seems light, he presses on with joy. In the engraving a person is seen nscendingthe steps from Faith to Glory. Ho bears the consecreated cross, en- couraged by the presence and ministry of a guardian angel to press upward to the heavenly regions. The first step represented is Faith, showing that every one who commences a religious life must, iu the first place, have taith in the being and attributes of God, be- lieving that he is, and that he is a re- warder of all them that diligently seek him. In many places in Scripture, faith is represented as the principal grace, and without it no one can please God. The apostle, in his epistle to tho Hebrews, gives a lonsr catalojrue of worthies who exercised living faith, CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES 107 from righteous Abel down to the Chris- tian era, many of whom performed wondei'S by its power; and it is recorded of them that they all died in faith. When a man has faith in God, and begins to understand something of his nature, and of his obligations to him, he foels a spirit of Humility, on account of his short-comings, his violation of the divine law, and the spirit of de- pravity within. He sees that he has broken the law of his Creator and Ben- efactor, and rendered himself liable to the infliction of its penalties. He is humbled in the dust before God, and feels himself undone, unless God has mercy on him. He has now taken the second upward step toward salvation. In view of his transgressions against 80 great and so good a Being, the con- victed sinner has a view of his corrupt and vile nature, and of his exceeding depravity, and loathes himself on ac- count of his sins. Ho, therefore, feels a deep sorrow for his transgressions, and makes a firm resolution and de- termination to forsake them. He thus exercises evangelical Repentance, and so has taken the third upward step rep- resented in the engraving. Encouraged by the divine promise, he next takes the fourth step upward. He exercises Hope that God will deliver him from all his sins, and save him with an eternal salvation. "The hope of a Christian," says one, " is an expectation of all necessary good, both in time and in eternity, founded on the promises, re- lations, and perfections of God, and on the offices, righteousness, and interces- sion of Christ. It is a compound of desire, expectation, patience, and joy. Kom. viii : 24, 2.j. It may be considered, first, as j9Mre, (1 John iii: 2, 8,) as it is resident in that heart which is cleansed from sin; second, as good, (2 Thess. ii: 16 — in distinction from the hope of a hypocrite,) as deriving its origin from God, centering in him ; third, it is called lively, (1 Pet. i: 3,) as it proceeds from spiritual life, and renders one active and lively in good works ; fourth, it is courageous, (Eom. v : 5 ; 1 Thess. v : 8,) because it exercises fortitude in all the troubles of life, and yields support in the hour of death, (Prov. xiv: 32;) fifth, sure, (Heb. vi: 19,) because it will not disappoint us, and is fixed on a sure foundation; sixth, joyful, (Eom. v: 2,) as it produces the greatest felicity in theanticii^ation of the complete deliver- ance from all evil." Expectation, the fifth step, is nearly allied, and may be considered as an advanced step upward from Hope. "We may, indeed, hope for some things which we may have but little prospect of receiving, and it may be so deferred as even to make "the heart sick." But the Christian having had some ex- perience of the mercy and goodness of God, now expects to receive still greater blessings in accordance with his prom- ises. Sanctification, the sixth upward stop in the Cliristian life, is defined by Arch- bishop Usher to be "nothing less than for a man to be brought to an entire resignation of his will to the will of God, and to live in the offering up of his soul continual!}' in the flames of love, and as a whole burnt oflering to Christ." It is also defined as the work of God's grace, whereby we are enabled to die unto sin and live unto righteous- ness. Sanctification is distinguished from justification thus : Justification changeth our state in law before Cod as a Judge ; sanctification changeth our heart before him as a Father. Justification pro- cedes and sanctification follows as the fruit and evidence of it. Justification removes the guilt of sin ; sanctification the power of it. Justification delivers us from the avenging wrath of God; sanctification fi-om the poAver of it. It is a work of God, and shows itself by a holy reverence of the Divine Being — patient, submission to his will, com- 108 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES, raunion with God, delight in his Word and ordinances, humility, px'ayer, holy confidence, praise, and uniform, obedi- ence. Being purified and sanctified, wo are thus rendered complete in Christ, wo receive Adoption as sons. This is the seventh and highest elevation to which mortals can attain in this life beforo they enter Glory above. Adoption is defined to be the act of God's free grace, whereby human beings are re- ceived into the number, and have a right to all the privileges of the sons of God. Adoption is a word taken fi'om the civil law, and was much in use among the Romans in the time of the apostles, when it was the custom for persons having no children of their own to adopt one or more of some others, to whom they gave their name, their es- tates, and were, in all respects, treated and considered as their own children. The privileges of those who are adopted into the family of God are every way great and extensive. They have God's name iipon them, and are described as his people, "called by his name." They are no longer slaves to the things of time and sense, but are raised to dignity and honor. They have inexhaustible riches laid up for them; for it is declared that "they shall inherit all things." They have the divine protection ; for it is also de- clared that "they shall dwell in a peaceable habitation, and in sure dwell- ings and quiet resting-places." They shall have unspeakable felicity and eternal glory; for the same word de- clares that "they shall be forever with the Lord." Those adopted into the family of heav- en cast off all allegiance to any other; they give up every other interest which interferes with the will and glory of their heavenly Father, saying "Other lords have had dominion over us; but by thee only will we make mention of thy name." These adopted ones fee) a supremo aff"ection for their Great Ben- efactor, and each one of them says from his heart, "Whom have I in heaveij but thee, and there is none on earth that I desire beside thee." They have access to God with a holy boldness. Being children by adoption, and joint heirs with Jesus Christ, they can, by the vir- tue of his merits, " come boldly to the throne of grace, that they may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need;" and, in the Avords of inspira- tion, they may truly say, "He that spared not his only begotten Son, but freely gave him up for us all, how shall he not with him give us all things." The Christian traveler having as- cended to a state of sanctification and adoption into the family of heaven, has arrived at the confines of eternal glory. lie is now in the land of Beulah, and has glimpses of the heavenly, glorious, and eternal mansions of the blessed, and can say with the Apostle, "Hence- forth I know that there is a crown of glory laid up for me, and not for me only, but for all who love \\\.a appear- ing. cueistia:n' similitudes. 109 EXODTJS, Chap. XX : verse 17. ECCLESIAST'S Chap, viii: verse 11, 2 TIMOTHY, Chap, lii: verse 13. ROMANS, Chap, ii : verse 5. EPHESIANS, Chap, iv : verse 18. 2 PETER, Chap, ii: verse 10. JEREMIAH, Chap, xvii: verse 9. JUDE, Chap, i : verse 3. SEVEN DOWNWARD STEPS. But evil men and seducers shall wax loorse and worse, deceiving and being deceived. 2 Tim. in : 13. Going down to the cham- bers of death. Frov. vii : 27. Seven downward steps, behold in man's career, A siren form of guilty pleasure near; She gives the cup with all her fiendish arts, The base indulgence of sense imparts. Desire, Self-Will, and Self-Deception first, Throe steps upon that downward way accurst; Hardness of heart, the heavenly call requite, And Blindness, such as will not see the light; Presumption, sporting next on ruin's brink, Too hardened far, the soul to pause and think. Till Desperate Wickedness, last step below. Lands the lost wretch in depths of darkest woe. The engraving annexed represents a man going down, from bad to worse, a llight of steps, reaching to the rcgion.s of darkness and despair. Ho is lured on, ])erhaps, by some fascinating emissary of evil, who causes the bubbles of fancy and imagination, with their brilliant and attractive colors, to dance before him. He is attracted; the cup of guilty pleas- ure and intoxication is held out to him; he is lured downward by his deceiver, and, as she descends to lower depths, ho follows, till he reaches the utmost depths of wickedness and despair. 110 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES, Man, in this life, is in a state of trial or temptation, and is situated, as it were, between two worlds — the one of light and U'lory, the other of darkness and despair. He is tempted to take a downw^ard course. The world, with its fascinating objects, is alwaj'S placed before him in bright and beauteous colors. He is Avarned by Heavenly ^yisdom to turn off his cyca from beholding vanity, but ho gives a deaf ear to her entreaties, being lured by the deceitful and lying vanities pre- sented to his view by a demon in the form of a beautiful female. Instead of resisting the tempter, as Divine Wisdom commands, his mind dwells on forbidden objects, and it is filled with the evil desire of accomplishing or obtaining unlawful objects. This is the first step in his downward career. Self-will, the next step downward, is natural to man in his flillen state. Satan has stamped his image on his heart, and, like his master, he is determined to have his own Avay. The will of God, which is the supreme rule of every intelligent creature in heaven or earth, is discarded. Though Avarned of the fatal conse- quences, ho braves it all in defiance of the Almighty; though entreated, he turns a deaf ear, and, Avith bold effrontery, says in his heart, "I will do my OAvn pleas- ure independentl}^ of that of my Crea- tor." The Almighty is dethroned in the sinner's heart, and self is set up, served, and Avorshiped as Deity. The man Avho has made up his mind that he will do certain acts foi'bidden by God's Word, to quiet his conscience, commences a course of self-deception. He reasons Avith himself that the sin he wishes to commit is but a small affair. He is led, perhaps, to consider it rather as a human Aveakncss than a sin ; that he can repent at any time, for Avhich God is bound to forgiA'c. The best of men have their failings — he has his, etc. Forgetting the great truth, that man is in the Avorld on a state of trial, he asks, " Why do I have these desires, unless they are to be gratified?" True, the Bible seems to be against these things, but per- haps the Bible itself is not true, and, therefore, it is nothing but priestcraft. By deceptive reasonings like the aboA'e, the heart of man is "hardened through the deccitfulness of sin," and he may be considered as having de- scended to the fourth doAvuAvard step — hardness of heart. He noAV can A^iolate a plain command of God Avith but little or no self-condemnation, either doing what he has expressly forbidden or n'^glect- ing what he has expressly commanded, and yet Avithout any remorse; and he may, perhaps, glory in this A^ery hard- ness of heart! Many instances of this deplorable state of mind are to be met Avith, even among some Avho call them- selves Christians. If any one can break the least of the knoAA^n commands' of God, Avithout self-condemnation, it is plain that Satan has hardened his heart. If not soon recoA-ercd from this, he will be "past feeling," and the conscience, as St. Paul says, Avill be "seared as with a hot iron." After a course of self-deception, send haA'ing hardened his heart, the sinner passes on to a state of Blindness, another doAA^uAvard step to perdition. As he had Avillfully closed his eyes against the light, his mind becomes blinded and insensible to the truth of God. Wo liaA'e an ex- ample of blindness of mind among a Avholo people, the Jcavs, who Avillfully closed their eyes against the true light Avhich AA^as exhibited by Jesus Christ, rejected the Lox'd of life and glory, and preferred a murderer before him. God, in judgment " hath given them the spirit of slumber, eyes that they should not see, and ears that they should not hear; let their eyes be dai'kened," etc. In many individual cases, those Avho have willfully hardened their hearts, and re- jected Jesus Christ, become blind to all moral excellence, " calling darkness light, and light darkness." After the mind, by a course of sin, be- CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES, 111 comes darkened, the sinner commits wickedness in a bold and daring man- ner, presuming that either God will not notice his actions, or, if ho does, ho will pardon every act ho may commit. ^'Pre- sumptuous sins," Bays one, " must be dis- tinguished from pins of infirmity, or those failings peculiar to human nature — from sins done through ignorance, and from sins into which men are hurried by sudden and violent temj^tation. They imply obstinacy, inattention to the remonstrance of conscience, and (rp- position to the dispensations of Provi- dence. Presumptuous sins are numerous, such as profane swearing, perjury, theft, adultery, drunkenness, etc. These may bo more particularly considered as pre- sumptuous sins, because the}'' are gener- ally committed against a known law, and so often repeated. ... As it re- spects j^rofcssors of religion, they sin presumptously when they take up a profession of religion without principle; when they do not take religion as they find it in the Bible; when they run into temptation, and, at the same time, in- dulge in self-confidence and self-compla- cency; and when professing to be Chris- tians, they live licentiously, and when they magnify and pervert their troubles, arraigning the conduct of God as un- kind or unjust." The last downward step before enter- ing the blackness of final despair, mar be called that of Desperate Wickedness. The Apostle speaks of those "who, being past all feeling, have given them- selves over to lasciviousness, to work all uncleanness with greediness." This de- cribes one form of desperate wickedness, and is a complete finish to the most abandoned character. To do a wicked act IS bad, but to labor in it is worse— to labor in all M'ickedncss is worse still; but to do all this, in every case, to the utmost extent, with a desire exceeding time, place, opportunity, and strength, is worst of all, and leaves nothing more profligate or more abandoned to be de- scribed. To be desperately wicked is to throw off all sense of shame, and to bid defiance to all the threatenings of the Almighty against sin ; to be desperate is to have neither the hope or desire of reformation — in a w^ord, to be without remorse, and to be utterly regardless of conduct, character, or final blessedness, Thy law and thy gospel they despise, They dare tliy wrath — of madness proud; They scorn tliy grace, to seek or prize To bow too lofty, e'en to God. Downward to deatli the wicked go, By sin led on, to ruin driven ; They sink in darkness to a world of woe, And lind uo ciilruuce into heaven. 112 CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. ROMANS, Chap, v: verse 12. PSALM xc: verse 3. PSALM Ixxxix: verse 48. JOB, Chap, vii : verse 10. PSALM ciii: verses 15, 16, PSALM cxliv: verse 4. JOB, Chap, xvii; verse 14. 1 CORINTH'NS Chap. XV : verse 26. DEATH'S DOINGS. What man is he that liveth and shall not see death? Ps. Lxxxix: 48. All jlesh shall perish together. Job. xxxiv: 15. Death passed upon all men. Horn, v: 12. Thou turneth man to de- struction. Ps. xc: 3. The King of Terrors in his regal crown, Blinded, at hazard, strikes his victims down; The rich and great, the beggar, mean and low, All fall alike by his resistless blow; The infant child, the monarch on his throne, All helpless victims on his path are strown; The lonely maiden in her beauteous bloom. The aged man, all share alike the doom ; A stern, awful monarch, 'neath whose sway None may resist, but all alike obey. Death is usually represented by the figure of a human skeleton. In the annexed engraving he is shown as partially clothed, so that his form, so awful to human beings, is not always perceived. As he is called the "King of Terrors," he wears a crown. As he is impartial ho shows no favors to any particular class. Ho is represented as striking with his fatal darts, at the same time, the lame beggar, with his crutches, and the beauteous maiden, in the full bloom and joy of life ; the haughty mon- arch, with all his insignia of roj'alty, and the little helpless child. In the background the minister of religion is CHEtSTIAX SI^IlLlTUDES. 113 seen warning his congregation of the approach of the great destroyer. "Death is, in itself, a most serious and distressing event. It is nature's supremo evil, the abhorrence of God's creation, a monster from whoso touch every living thing recoils ; so that to shrink from its ravages upon ourselves, or VL-pon those we love, is not an argu- ment of weakness, but an act of obedi- ence to the first law of being — a tribute to the value of that life which is our Maker's gift. The disregard which some of old af- fected to whatever goes by the name of evil— -the insensibility of others who yield up their souls to the power of fatalism, and the artificial gaiety which has occasionally played the comedian about the dying bed of "philosophy, falsely so called," are outrages upon decency and nature. "Death destroys both action and enjoyment; mocks at wisdom, strength, and beauty; dis- arranges our plans, robs us of our treasure, desolates our bosoms, breaks our heart-strings, blasts our hope. Death extinguishes the glow of kind- ness, abolishes the most tender relations of man, severs him from all he knows and loves, subjects him to an ordeal which thousandsof millions have passed, but none can explain, and which will be as new to the last who gives up the ghost as it was to murdered Abel; flings him, in fine, without avail from the experience of others, into a state of untried being. No wonder that na- ture trembles before it. Reason justi- fies the fear. Keligion never makes light of it; and he who docs, instead of ranking with heroes, can hardly de- servo to rank with a brute." "The best course of moral instruction against the passions," says Saurin, "is death." The grave is a discoverer of the absurdity of sin of every kind. There the ambitious may learn the folly of ambition; there the vain may learn the vanity of all human things; there 26 the voluptuous may read a mortifying lesson on the absurdity of sensual pleasure. Constantine the Great, in or- der to reclaim a miser, took a lance, and marked out a space of ground the size of the human body, and told him: "Add heap to heap, accumulate riches upon riches, extend the bounds of your possessions, conquer the whole world, in a few days such a spot as this will be all you will have. . . . Death puts an end to the most specious titles, to the most dazzling grandeur, and to the most delicious life." A sultan, amusing himself with walk- ing, observed a dervise sitting with a human skull in his lap, and appearing to be in a very profound reverie; hi.^ attitude and manner surprised the sul- tan, who demanded the cause of his be- ing so deeply engaged in reflection. "Sire," said the dervise, "this skull Avas presented to me this niorning, and I have from that moment been en- deavoring, in vain, to discover whether it is the skull of a powerful monarch, like your majesty, or a poor dervise, like myself." A humbling considera- tion, truly! "Earth's highest station end.s in, here he lies! And dust to dust concludes her noblest song." When David Garrick, the celebrated actor, showed Dr. Johnson, the great English moralist, his fine house, gar- dens, statues, and pictures, at Hamp- ton Court, the Doctor, instead of giving him a flattering compliment, as was expected, replied: "Ah, David, David' these are the things that make a death bed terrible." At the restoration of., monarchy in England, a Fellow of one of the coflegosat Cambridge represented to a friend the great difl^culties of con- forming, in point of conscience, to the regulations required, concluding, how- ever, with these words: "But we must live." To which the other most ap- propriately answered, with tho same 114 CUKISTIAN SIMILITUDES. number of words, "but we must [also] die!" " Considering death in itself, it is," as a young writer observes, "a sad scene; and the solemnity of the scene increases as death advances. Every step the last enemy takes alarms; every fresh symptom strikes terror into the spectators, and spreads silence and gloominess through the dwelling; the disease baffles the power of medi- cine. They who stand by observe its progress; the dying man watches their looks; he suspects his case to be des- perate. The physician at length pro- nounces it so; he believes it. Now the wheel of life goes down apace. The vital flame burns faint and irregular; reason intermits ; short intervals of sense divide his thoughts and passions. Now himself is the object; then his family. His friends, his relations, his children crowd around his bed, shed their unavailing tears over him, and receive his last blessing, ilis pulse beats a sui*render to the pale conqueror; his eyes swim, his tongue falters, a cold sweat bedews his face; he groans, he expires!" Pope Eugenius IV summoned a coun- cil to meet at the city of Basle, in Switzerland, in the year 1431, which mot and continued to sit for seventeen years. At this council the Poj)c him- self and many princes were present. Daring this time the city was visited with a plague which carried oflT many of the nobility; and on the cessation of the distemper the surviving members of the council, with a view to perpetu- ate the memory of this event, caused to be painted on the walls of the cem- etery a Dance of Death, representing all ranks of pei'sons as individually seized by him. The figures are all drawn in the costume or habit of the times. Holbein, one of the great painters of the German school, was born in Bt-sle about 1498, where he lived until man- hood. In 1554 a series of wood -cuts, about fifty in number, from Holbein's drawings, were published in Basle, en- titled ^-Images of Dt^ath,'' each print be- ing accompanied by an admonitory stanza and a quotation from the Bible. This unique specimen of art has passed through numerous editions in various languages. The American edition has a frontispiece which shows an open grave in front, to which a long pro- cession from the city is coming, each individual being accompanied by a figure of death. The Pope is seen at the head, the empei'or next, and so on, in regular gi*adation, according to rank. The first four of these expressive drawings represent our first parents in various situations, from their creation till after their expulsion from Paradise. The fifth scene shows a church- yard, and the porch of a church filled with an assemblage oi" skeletons, who are blowing trumpets and other loud-sounding instruments, evidently rejoicing in triumph. The sixth shows the Pope in the act of crowning an emperor who kneels before him. Deatli, how- ever, from behind tlie throne, lays his hand upon him, who is the highest human potentate. The seventh shows an emperor enthroned, with sword in hand, with his courtiers about him ; a skeleton is seen bestriding the shoulders of the monarch, with his hands upon liis crown. In the eighth we see a king dining un^icr a canopy, and served by a retinue. He iuid in his hand a wine-cup, but does not appear to see that Death is filling it. A caidinal appears in the ninth, selling an indulgence for money. Death appears seizing his hat, the symbol of his rank, and is about to tear it from liis head. In the tenth design is an empress in her palace yard, attended by the ladies. Deatli, however, is by her side, directing her attention to an open grave. In the next, Death, in the guise of a court fool, has seized the queen; she shrieks, and endeavors to free herself from his grasp, but in vain. With a grin of fierce delight he holds up his liour-glass, to show her that he.- time is expired. In the twelfth, Death carries off a hisliop from his flock. In the thirteenth is an elector, or prince of the empire, who is apparently repulsing a poor woman and child from his presence. But Death, the avenger of the oppres.^ed poor, with an iron gripe is seizing him while stand- CinilSTIAN SIMILITUDES. 115 ing among liis courtiers. The abbot and the abbess are the subjects of tlie two next cuts. In the former, Death has assumed the miter and crosier of his victim, and drags him off with ludicrous pomp; lie drags off the abbess by the scapulary which hangs about her neck. A gentleman ancl a canon figure in the six- teenth and seventeenth groups — the judge, the advocate, and the magistrate; the vices pe- culiar to these stations only are satirically disp'ayed. The curate is next represented ; beiiind him stands Death, who holds up the jaw of a skeleton over his head, as being more eloquent than his own. A priest and mendicant friar appear next. The twenty- fourth is a youthful nun, kneeling before the oratory in her cell. The next in order are the old woman, the physician, and astrologer. To the pliysician. Death, as in mocker}'-, is bring- ing him a patient; to the astrologer, who is looking up to a celestial sphere, Death holds up a skull before him, inviting him to con- template that sphere before the other. Tlie miser comes next, from whom Death snatches his gold. The merchant and mariner follow. Deatii takes away the merchant from his ships and merchandise, and is snapping the mast of the mariner's vessel. The knight or soldier is represented as in a desperate conflict with Death. The count and an old man come next. A countess, while examing a new dress, is seen, with Death by her side, adjusting a collar about her neck. Death appears before the newly-married couple beating a tabor with joy. lie seizes the duchess as she is sitting on her bed or couch. The next cut represents a heavy loaded porter, whom Death is taking from under his burden. The peasant, or plowman, comes next, of whose four-horse team Death is the driver. The next is an affecting scene, approaching to the strongest sympathies of the human heart Aside from this, it shows the impartiality of Death, who "Invades with the same step The hovels of beggars and the palaces of kings." The mother is seen in a poor cottage pre- paring, with a ^Q\v small sticks, a scanty meal Death enters, seizes the hand of the youngest child, who turns and stretches tlie otiier im- ploringly to his motlier, who is frantic with grief A battle scene between Death and a SwisB soldier is depicted; the field is covered with the wounded and slain, in the midst of which lie encounters liis last enemy. A group of gamesters are next presented. Death appears to be strangling one of the com- pany, probably designed to show one metiiod of suicide committed by those given to games ot chance. Next, a drunken German debauch, as the actors appeared four centuries ago. Death has seized one of the poor besotted creatures, and turns the fatal liquor down his throat. Then, in succession, follow the fool, the thief, and the blind man. Tiie fool is accompanied by a figure of Death playing on a bagpipe; the thief, or highwayman, is seen in the act of robbing a helpless woman. Death, how- ever, has his bony fingers grasping the neck of the thief, indicative of the fate which awaits him. The blind man is led by a skeleton, who appears blind also. The forty-seventh design in this singular work is an admiraljle representation of a poor, decrepid beggar, forsaken by his fellow-men. Some of liis limbs are withered by disease, and his body is nearly distitute of clothing. To add to his misery, a number of persons are pointing at hitn the finger of scorn and derision. Death is not seen near him, as he is with the other characters represented. This circumstance has puzzled the critics and anti- quarians, who asked what was the reason of the omission. It might be to show that to him to whom Death would be a relief, Death oftentimes seems to delay his coming. Among the four last scenes that are rep- resented, is one showing the husband and wife. Deatli is seen leading away the husband by part of his dress, which he has seized and thrown over his shoulder. The wife has her hand grasped by Death, who is taking her away, unmindful of her tears. The work ends, as a connected series, with a repre- sentation, partly figurative and partly literal, of what will take place at the consummation of all things. Clirist, the Conqueror of Death, and final Jutlge of all, attended with the hosts above, appears in the clouds of heaven seated on the bow of Promise, The celestial sphere showing the ecliptic, with the signs of the zodiac, the tarlh in the center, etc., is seen beneath the Judge, thus showing that all worlds are under him, and tiiat he views them all atone glance. An assemblage of human beings, apparently just raised from their graves, stand before their Juilge, to be dealt with according to the deeds done in the body. 116 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. PEOYEEBS, Chap, xii: verse 22. 1 JOHN, Chap, iv: verse 1. PSALM Iviii: verse 3. JEEEMIAH, Chap, xxiii : verse 32. EZEKIEL, Chap, xiii : verse 9. PSALM Iv: verse 11. EPHESIANS, Chap, iv: verse 14. EEVELATION, Chap, xxi : verse 8. THE LYING DEMON. them that put darkness for light, and light for darkness. 0. Speaking lies is hypocrisy. 1 Tim. iv : 2. He eih lies shall perish. Prov. xix : 9. Woe unto ^. -—,,-• Isa. V : 20. Speaking lies is hyp that speakeih lies shall pierish. Prov Behold the Lying Demon thus disgrace Tlie robes of truth — she hides her liideous face Behind a mask, and in her liand she bears The broken mirror, which distorted wears False images, most like her own deceit. The weeping Crocodile beneath her feet; The misnamed globes of darkness and of light, To which her lying lips direct the sight; Truth's sacred records trampled under fool, And man's vain theories, their substitute, While o'er her flies the dusky bird of night, Emblem of deeds that dare not meet the light- False infidelity upholds her form, Soon to be swept before the rising storm ; All these her hideous character declare. And each some token of deception bear. The Lying Demon is here represented by a hideous figure dressed somewhat in the resemblance of Truth. She wears a mask to hide the deformity of her features. She holds up a mirror, it is true, but it is broken, which reflects everything in a distorted and disjointed manner. Two hemispheres are exhib- ited, one light, the other dark; she points to the latter, and calls it light. By her side is seen the crocodile, who is uttering a cry of distress, for the pur- pose of drawing other animals within its reach, so that it may devour them ; it is, therefore, properly an emblem of lying and of fraud. The demon is shown trampling the records of truth under her feet; she bun CHRISTIAK SIMILITUDES. 117 various masks at hand to be worn on certain Occasions. By her side are va- rious infidel works, amonc^ which are those of Paine, Voltaire; also, the book of Mormon. Above her flies the bat, the bird of night, the emblem of dark- ness. The Lyinc; Demon stands on the sandy foundation of Atheism and Infidel- ity, which the rising storm and flood will sweep away with the besom of de- struction. Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord. All men must acknowledge lying to be one of the most scandalous sins that can be committed between man and man — a crime of a deep dye and of an extensive nature, leading into innumer- able sins — for lying is practiced to de- ceive, to injure, betray, rob, destroy, and the like. Lying, in this sense, is the concealment of all other crimes — the sheep's clothing upon the wolf's back, the Pharisee's own prayer, the harlot's blush, the hypocrite's paint, the mur- derer's smile, the thief's cloak, and Judas' kiss. In a word, it is the devil's distinguished characteristic. Lying is defined by Paley, " as a breach of promise, for whoever seriously addresses his discourse to another, tacitly promises to speak the truth, because he knows that truth is expected. There aie various kinds of lies: first, the per- nicious lie, uttered for the hurt or dis- advantage of our neighbor ; second, the oflScious lie, uttered for our own or our neighbor's advantage; third, the ludi- crous and jocose lie, uttered by way of jest, and only for mirth's sake, in com- mon converse; fourth, pious fi'auds, as they are imjiroperly called, pretended inspirations, forged books, counterfeit miracles, are species of lies; fifth, lies of the conduct, for a lie may be told in gestures as well as in words; sixth, lies of omission, as when an author willfully omits what ought to be related; and may wo not all admit, seventh, that equivocation and mental reservation come under the guilt of lying. The evil and injustice of this crime appears, first, from its being a breach of the natural and universal right of all men to truth in the intercourse of speech ; second, for its being a violation of God's law; third, the faculty of speech was bestowed on us as an instrument of knowledge, not of deceit; to communi- cate our thoughts, not to hide them ; fourth, it has^a tendency to dissolve all society; fifth, the punishment of it is great, the hatred of those whom we have deceived, and an eternal separation from God in the world to come. Truth is alwa^'s consistent with itself, and needs nothing to help it out. It is always near at hand, sits upon our lips, and is ready to drop out before we are aware; whereas a lie is troublesome, sets a man's imagination upon the rack, and before it gets over half its journey needs many more to hold it up fi-om the ground. It is like a building upon a false foundation, which continually' needs props to shore it up, and Avhich proves at last more expensive than to have raised a substantial building at first upon a true and solid foundation. The crafty man is always in danger ; and when he thinks he walks in the dark, all his pretenses are so transparent that he that runs may read them. He thinks he is making fools of others, but instead makes the greatest fool of himself 'Almost every other vice," says an excellent writer, "may be kept in coun- tenance by applause and association ; even the robber and cut-throat have their followers, who admire their ad- dress and intrepidity, their stratagems of rapine, and their fidelity to the gang; but the liar is universally despised, abandoned, and disoAvned. He has no domestic consolations which he can op- pose to the censure of mankind. lie can retire to no fraternity where his crimes may stand in the place of vir- tues; but is given up to the hisses of the multitude without a friend, without an apologist." " The very devils," says 118 CnRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. one, " do not tell lies to one another; for truth is necessary to all societies, nor can the society of hell subsist without it." The sin of lying consists in declaring for true any thing that is false. If wo say or do any thing to deceive, even if we speak not a word, we are guilty of falsehood, as in the following instances: Suppose a man to be traveling to York on horseback, and comes to a place where two roads meet. The right-hand road is the one ho should take, but he is a stranger, and does not know it. He sees a person in the road, and asks him which is the way to York? The man says nothing, but points to the left-hand road. After traveling some considerable distance, he fotops to get refreshment for himself and horse, saying, "I wish to get to York to-night, and 1 suppose this is the right road? " The man says noth- ing, but laughs at the traveler's mistake when he is out of sight. These men were guilty of falsehood, though they did not say a word. The first deceived the traveler, and committed a lie by pointing in a direction he knew to be wrong; the second deceived the traveler by his silence, for he intended, by saj'ing nothing, to make the man believe that he was right. A person may be guilty of falsehood even in speaking the truth, as in the following instances: "I can not find Mary," says one girl to another, "have you seen her?" "Yes," was the reply, "I have." She had not seen her for days, and knew that her companion meant whether she had seen her just then. She was guilty of falsehood, be- cause she wished to make the other be- lieve that she had seen Mary a little time before. Parents sometimes unwittingly edu- cate their children to deceit and lying. The mother, perhaps, when giving her child unpleasant medicine, says, "Here is something good for you." The child, when it has swallowed the bitter potion, cries out, "You said it was good." "So it is good — for your cough," replied the mother. A man signed a promise that he would never drink intoxicating liquor, unless it was ordered by a phy- sician. Afterward he wished to get rid of his promise, and persuaded a phy- sician to order him to drink brandy, when the latter joined him, and the two got drunk together. In the first age of the Christian Church, the Almighty, in a striking manner, showed his displeasure against deception and lying, by striking dead Ananias and Sapphira in the very act. God made this guilty pair an example of his justice to show his utter abhorrence of hypocrisy and deceit. In the book of licvclation it is declared that "all liars shall have their part in the lake that burnetii with fire and brimstone, which is the second death." "The word liars, in this passage," saj^s an able commen- tator, " signifies every one who speaks contrar}'' to the truth, when he knows the truth ; and even he who speaks the truth with the intention to deceive, i. e. to persuade a person that a thing is dif- ferent from what it really is by telling only a part of the truth, or suppressing some circumstance Avhich would have led the hearer to a cliiferent and the true conclusion. All these shall have their portion, their share, what oelongs to them, their right, in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone. This is the second death, from which there is no recovery." "The liar laugheth in sorrow, he weepeth in joy; he worketh in the darkness as a mole, and fancieth he is safe; but he blundereth into light, and is exposed to full view, with dirt on his head. He lives in perpetual constraint, for his tongue and his heart are at variance, and the business of his life is to deceive." As he has shunned the light, darkness eternal will be his portion. CinilSTIAN SIiMILITUDi:-^. 119 PSALM cxxi : verse 4. PSALM xcv: verse 7. ISAIAH, Chap, liii: verso 6. UEBEEWS, Chap, xiii: verse 20. MATTHEW, Chap. XV: verse 24. 1 PETEE, Chap, v: verse 4. THE ilEAYENLY SHEPHERD. Before I was afflicted I went astray Ps. cxrx: 67. Noio re- turned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls. 1 Pet. ii: 25. When in the wilds the heedless sheep would stray, And wander careless from the beaten way; In vain the Shepherd every art would try, To make them follow him to pastures high. He takes a lamb and bears it up the hill. Up the steep path the mother follows still, Till in the upland pastures, green and fair. The sheep and lambs are safely folded there. The care of the good Shepherd ex- tends equally to every member of his flock. He sees danarer when it is afar off. The picture illustrates his faithful- ness. One of his flock, while wander- ing; in the pasture, came, in the heat of the day, to a cool, shady recess in the adjacent forests, not knowini; that wild beasts lurked there for his de- struction. His warnins^ voice havinj^ failed to stop the wanderer, he has run and seized her lamb, took it to his bosom and moves away in another di- rection. By the instinctive love of her offsprinc;, the dam turns and fol- lows the shepherd who holds the dar- ling in his embrace. By this means both are preserved from the destroyer and brought into the fold of safety. In like manner, the heavenly Shep- herd watches over us, the sheep of his pasture. He often corrects us, and in mercy prevents us from pui-suing our chosen ways which lead to destruction. When nothing else will stop us on our wayward course, he will seize some darling and beloved object, and thereby turn us to himself Perhaps God takes an idolized child, the dear object of our affections, to himself. The world has now lost its charms. Where shall we, then, go for comtbrt but to the 120 CJllISTIAN SIMILITUDES. heavenly Shepherd? He carries the lambs in his bosom; he is touched with the feeling of our infirmities; he took our darling to himself, and will he not restore him at the great day if we fol- low him? Yes, verily! our Divine Shepherd, if we follow him and keep his command- ments, will freely give us all things. "Like as a Father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame, he remem- bereth that we are but dust." It is true that he may and does afflict us, but we may rest assured it is for our good. Says the royal Psalmist: "Before 1 was afflicted I went astray, but now have I kept thy word." The Apostle also declares, " Whom the Lord loveth ho chasteneth, and scourgeth every one that he receiveth ; nevertheless, it yield- eth the peaceable fruits of righteous- ness." Instead of mumuring when the heav- enly Shepherd takes one of the lambs to himself, to dwell forever in his im- mediate presence, eternally shut in from all harm or danger, would it not more become us to rejoice, or at least submit to his will? The following Scottish le- gend is to the point: "A married couple of the highlanders had thrice lost their only child, each dying at an early age. Upon the death of the last the father became boisterous, and littered his complaints in the loud- est tones. The death of the child happened late in the sj^ring, when, in the inhabited straths, sheep were abi-oad; but from the blasts in that high and stormy re- gion, they were still confined in the cot. In a dismal, stormy evening, the man, unable to stifle his anguish, went out, lamenting aloud for a lamb to treat his friends with at the wake (or funeral feast). At the door of the sheej')-cote he found a stranger standing. He was astonished, in such a night, so far from any frequented place! The mysterious visitor was plainly attired, but he had a countenance expressive of singular mildness and benevolence ; and, addressing the father in a sweet impressive voice, asked what he did there amid the tempest. He was filled with awe, which he could not account for, and said lie came for a lamb. "What kind of a lamb do you mean to take? said the stranger. '•The very best that I can find," he replied, "as it is to entertain my friends; and I hope you will share of it." "Do your sheep make any resistance when you take away the lambs?" " Never," was the answer. "How difif'erently am I treated," said the traveler; "when I come to visit my sheep-fold, I take, as I am well entitled to do, the best lamb to myself, and my ears are filled with the clamor of discontent by these ungrateful sheep, whom I have fed, watched, and pro- tected." He looked up in amazement, but — the vision had fled. Tiie following descriptive lines are appropri- ate to our subject. They were addressed to a friend by the late Mrs. Lowell, after the death of a child. They describe the method adopted by the shepherd of the Alps to lead his flock to a new and better pasture: "They in the valley's sheltering care. Soon crop the meadows' tender prime, And when the sod grows brown and bare, The shepherd tries to make them climb To airy shelves of pasture green. That hang along the mountain's side, Where grass and flowers together lean, And down through mist the sunbeams glide. But naught can tempt the timid things The steep and rugged path to try; Though sweet the shepherd calls and sings. And seared below the pastures lie. Till in his arms his lambs he takes, Along the dizzy verge to go; Then heedless of the rifts and breaks, They follow on o'er rock and snow. And in those pastures, lifted fair, More dewy-soft than lowland mead, The shepherd drops his tender care, And sheep and lambs together feed." CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 121 1 COEIXTH'NS, Chap, ii: verse 14. 1 CORINTH'NS, Chap. XV : verse 46. EPHESIANS, Chap, ii: verse 3. EOMANS, Chap, v: verse 20. rROYEIlBS, Chap, iii: verso 34. EOMANS, Chai^. iii: verso 24. 2 PETER, Chap, i: verse 3. ROMANS, Chap, vi: verse 22. THE THREE LIVES. For they that are after the flesh do mind the things of the flesh; but they that are after the Spirit, the things of the Spirit. Horn, viii : 5. In the world to come, life everlasting. Luke xviii : 30. Seb here the wretch, low groveling in the mire, Companion of the filthy; no desire Beyond the present lifts his foul from earth; He knows no joys save those of meanest birth; The poison cup he drinks, and deeper roll Tlie tides of sin and folly o'er his soul; The Life of Nature thus appears to view, Herding with swine, partakes their groveling too; But see, redeemed, a wondrous change appears. His cheeks are wet with penitential tears; The bow of promise shines before his eyes, His arms are lifted toward the smiling skies. The dove of peace, with olive-branch, bcliold, And near, the shepherd with his peaceful fold. Sweet emblems these, in wliich the soul maj trace New life begun below, the Li/e of Grace. Seel higher still, beside the heavenly pates, A starry crown the ransomed soul awaits; And angel legions, in a loving band, Their ransomed brother greet with open hand; A L'/e of Glory thus begun on high, Still leading on through vast eternity. The engraving represents man in three kinds or modes of life. The lower part shows man in a state of nature, generally designated as a state of sin, or sinfid Ife. lie is s-cated, apparently at his case, beside a hog, who is wal- 122 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES, lowing in filth. He is in close contact with ferocious and unclean qjnimals, and has the cup of intoxication in his grasp. The scene immediately above shows man in a state or life of grace. On one hand is a dove, with an olive- branch ; on the other, a flock of sheep, emblems of peace, purity, and the flock of Christ. The man's arms are extended, as in prayer, toward the rainbow of promise just before him. In the upper part of the engraving the man appears in a state or life of glory. Having ob- tained the victory he is crowned; he is introduced into the society of angels, and is going still upward into the pres- ence of Deity. The natural man is he who places his supreme happiness in the things of the world, living to gratify tlie de- sires of the flesh, the desire of the eye, or the pride of life. Many have no higher aspirations than mere swine, and brutalize their minds and bodies. Some are like wild beasts, fighting and devouring each other. A blindness comes over their minds, and they feel secure, being insensible to the dangers to which they are exposed. They have no fear of God, because they know him not. Far above the natural man is the Christian, or he who is existing in a life of grace. He looks upward and walks by faith; his affections are set on things above and not on things of the earth. His life of grace commences "wiien ho turns from sin unto holiness. "That which is born of the Spirit is spirit." As the eff'ect of his natural birth introduces him into a state of sin, the effect of this new birth is to make him \\o\j. He loves what before he hated, and hates what before he loved. Laying hold of the promises of God, he sees with an eye of faith his eternal inheritance. Having such a view of the future, visible things, by which he is surrounded, appear comparatively of small value, as he sees they are but temporal, passing away like a shadow, while a life of glory is eternal. The life of glory is entered at death by him who has been prepared for it, by a life of grace in the present world. In fact, it is a blessed consummation of that spiritual or gracious life, which was kindled up in the soul when on the earth. He reviews the crown of life everlasting, and is attended by a con- voy of angelic beings, who are sent to minister to the heirs of salvation. The emblem of the Deity, (one in three, and three in one,) with radiations of glory, is seen above, showing that God will forever dwell with his people. Palms of victory are waving to show that they have overcome the world, and are received as conquerors through him that hath loved them and gave him- self for them; their robes are washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb. In this life of glory they are before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple. The Lord Jesus, enthroned in glory, will commu- nicate to his people every thing calcu- lated to secure, continue, and increase their happiness. He will lead them into living fountains of water con- stantly boiling up and running on. "By these perpetual fountains,'' saj'^s a writer, "we are to understand endless sources of comfort and happiness, which Jesus Christ will open out of his own infinite plenitude to all glorified souls. These eternal living fountains will make an infinite variety in the enjoy- ments of the blessed. There will be no sameness, and, consequently, no cloying with the perpetual enjoyments of the same things; every moment will open a new source of pleasure, instruction, and improvement; they shall make an eternal progression into the fullness of God." "As God is infinite, so his attributes are infinite; and throughout infinity more and more of those attributes will bo discovered, and the discovery of CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 123 each will bo a new foundation, or source of pleasure or enjoyment. These sources must be opening through all eternity; and yet, through all eternity, there will still remain, in the absolute per- fections of the Godhead, an infinity of them to be opened!" Hence it is, that the Christian, in the progress of his history, lives three lives — first, a life of sense, or nature; then a life of faith; and, lastly and eternally, a life of glory. Dr. Doddridge, the celebrated author of the commentary on the New Testa- ment, spent many happy hours in re- ligious conversation with Dr. Clarke, an intimate friend. Among other mat- ters, a very favorite topic was the in- termediate state of the soul. They were of the opinion that at the instant of dissolution the soul was not imme- diately introduced into the presence of all the heavenly host, nor into the full glory of the heavenly state. One even- ing, after a conversation of this nature. Dr. Doddridge retired to rest with his mind full of the subject discussed; and in "the visions of the night," while the eyes of the body were closed in sleep, he, in a certain sense, passed into another life, and by another power, as yet unknown to mortals, he saw, heard, and acted. In his dream, he was at the house of his friend, where he was suddenly taken ill. By degrees, he seemed to himself to grow worse, and at last to expire. In an instant he was sensible that he had passed into another and higher state of existence. He had ex- changed a state of mortality and suffer- ing for one of immortality and happi- ness. Embodied in an aerial form, he seemed to float in a region of pure light. There was naught below but the melancholy group of his friends weeping around his lifeless remains. Himself thrilled with joy, he was surprised at their tears, and attempted to inform them of his happy change, but by some mysterious power utter- ance was denied; ho rose silentlj' upon the air, and their forms gradually re- ceded from his sight. While in golden clouds, he found himself swiftly mounting the skies with a venerable figure at his side, guiding his mysterious movements, in whose countenance he remarked the lineaments of youth and old age blended together with an intimate harmony and majestic sweetness. The}'' traveled together through a vast space, until, at length, the towers of a glorious edi- fice appeared in the distance; and as its form arose brilliant and distinct among the far-off shadows across their i:)ath, the guide informed him that the palace he beheld was, for the present, to be his mansion of rest. Shortly they were at the door, where they en- tered. The guide introduced him into a spacious apartment, at the extremity of which stood a table, covered with a snow-white cloth, a golden cup, and a cluster of grapes; and then said he must now leave him, but that he must remain, for he would receive, in a short time, a visit from the Lord of the man- sion, and that during the interval be- fore his arrival the apartment would furnish him with sufficient entertain- ment and instruction. The guide van- ished and he was left alone. He began to examine the decorations of the room, and observed that the walls were adorned with a number of pictures. Upon nearer inspection he found, to his astonishment, that they formed a com- plete biography of his own life. Here he saw upon the canvas that angels, though unseen, had ever been his fa- Iniliar attendants, and, sent by God, they had sometimes preserved him from imminent peril. He beheld himself first represented as an infant just ex- piring, when his life was ])rolongcd by an angel breathing into his nostrils. Most of the occurrences delineated were perefcetly familiar to his recollection, and unfolded many things which ho 124 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. had never before understood, and which had perplexed him with many doubts and much uneasiness. Among others, he was particularly struck with a picture in which he was represented as falling from his horse, when death would have been inevit- able had not an angel received him in his arms, and broken the force of his descent. These merciful interpositions of God filled him with joy and grat- itude, and his heart overflowed with love as he surveyed in them all an ex- hibition of goodness and mercy far be- yond all that he had imagined. Sud- denly his attention was arrested by a rap at the door — the Lord of the mansion had arrived. The door opened and he entered. So powerful and so overwhelming, and withal, of such singular beauty was his appearance, that he sunk down at his feet com- jiletely overcome by his majestic ap- pearance. His Lord gently raised him from the ground, and, taking him by the hand, led him forward to the table. He pressed with his finger the juice of grapes into the golden cup, and, after having himself drank, presented it to him, saying: "This is the new wine in my Father's kingdom." No sooner had he partaken than all uneasy sensation vanished ; perfect love had cast out fear, and he conversed with his Savior as an intimate friend. Like the silver rippling of a summer sea, he heard from his lips the grateful approbation, "Thy labors are over, thy work is approved ; rich and glorious is the re- ward." Thrilled with an unspeakable bliss that glided over his spirit and slid into the very depths of his soul, he sud- denly saw glories upon glories bursting upon his view. The doctor awoke. Tears of rapture from his joyful inter- vieAV were rolling down his cheeks. Long did the lively impressions of his charming dream remain upon his mind, and never could he speak of it without emotions of joy and tenderness. CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 125 JONAH, Chap, ii: verse 2. PSALM cxxxix : verse 5. PSALM xxviii : verse 1. JOB, Chap, xxxiii; verse 28. COLOSSIANS Chap, i : verse 13. PSALM XXX : verse 5. TERROR OF SIN— JOY OF SALVATION. Let not the wate.r-fiood overflow me, . . . let not the pit shut her mouth upon me. . . . And hide not thy face, . . . for I am in trouble: hear me speedily. Fs. lxix: 15, 17. To give light to them that sit in darkness, and in t/ie sKadow of death. Luke 1 : 79. Deep in the cavern's gloom of rayless night. No sound of life without, no gle.am of liglit; The waters gathering round with icy chill, What terrors now their anxious bosoms fill ! On every hand they looked for aid in vain. One voice alone their sinking souls sustain; Darkness around, above, below the wave; They call on God, for God alone can save. They call aloud, they strain the listening ear, At last, far distant, 'glimmering lights appear; Deliverance comes, like sunshine through the gloom, And leads them safely through their living tomb. Ik The celebrated Mammoth Cave, of Kentucky, about ninety miles southwest from Louisville, in that State, has long been an object of curiosity to travelers. It is said to extend thirteen miles into the bowels of the earth. It consists of a kind of labyrinth of passages, mag- nificent chambers, several rivers or streams, the largest of which is about a quarter of a mile in width, and deep enough to float a large steamboat. This stream is about five miles from the en- trance of the cave, and pursues its dark and solitary course, which the adven- turous visitor is compelled to navigate in a boat. "On one occasion," says a recent writer, "a party of young men. under the conduct of a guide, and suitably pro- vided with torches, spent some hours in exploring this cavern, and while moving over this subterraneous stream in their frail boat, gave a loose rein to their exuberant spirits, and laughed and sung until they made the overhanging arches echo with their merriment. In thought- 12G CIlPtlSTIAK SIiIlLITUDES, lessness they rocked the boat from side to side, when in a moment it was cap- sized, and the}' Avcre thrown into the dark waters. The boat floated from them, their torches were extinguished, they were in impenetrable darkness, and far from human aid. Although re- gaining their feet, they were submerged nearly to their necks, and, alarmed and chilled, they felt that their exer- tions 430uld avail nothing for their rescue. The guide, with ready presence of mind, swam round them, encouraged them to retain their self-possession, and warned them of the certain peril of moving a single step. They were told that their onl}' hope was in remaining still until the other guide, after a laj^se of hours, might become alarmed at their long absence and come to their rescue. Can imagination picture a more frightful scene than was here presented'/ Midnight darkness enveloped them, the oold waters chilled their blood, no cries for aid could be heard by those without, they might have to wait man}' hours before the alarmed fears of their friends would stimulate them to send help; their strength in the mean time might fail, and they be floated away on the dark river of death without leaving a vestige to tell their fate! What could they do? Lately gay and joyous, how sad and terrible their situation now! AYhat! could they not make one efl'ort for their safety? Xot one. They could only pray, and pray they did, with deep earnestness, as men doomed to death, from which an Almighty power alone could deliver them. They were heard and sustained. At length, after a weary waiting, they descry a glimmering light, and then they hear the faint strokes of dis- tant oars. They almost fear to trust their senses; they doubt, they fear, but they are not deceived; their deliverer appears; they are received into his boat, exhausted with terror and fatigue, and soon they are conveyed to a place of safetv. The sudden revulsion of feeling overpowers them; they alter- nately weep, and are transported with joy ; they are saved. Have we no companion for this pic- ture? Yes, it is but a resemblance of another still more thrilling. The sin- ner, in his gayety and thoughtless- ness, dreams not of danger he laughs with the merry; he is enchanted with the scenes around him. Suddenly he finds himself in deep waters and sur- rounded by thick darkness. His strug- gles to extricate himself only involve him in greater danger. Horror over- spreads his mind. Each moment threat- ens to plunge him into ruin. He cries aloud, but hears only the frightful echo of his own despairing shout. He feels his utter helplessness, and, in his ex- tremity, pours out his tears and prayers. How horrible thus to perish ! But no; a small voice whispers in his car, There is yet hope ! He waits, but how tedious are the passing hours! Each moment seems an age. He is ready to abandon hope when a cheering light strikes upon his e}'e, and the voice of encouragement is heard ; his heart is reassured. One mighty to save ap- pears, and soon he is rescued from the deep waters. The light of a glorious day shines upon his soul; he feels, and is transported at the feeling, that he is saved. Sinner, have you felt no such terrors? You have cause to feel them. The danger is just as imminent whether you are sensible of it or not ; and if you are not driven to this extremity here, you may expect to feel it in that world where there is no Savior, and whei'O all will be irretrievably lost. "\Ye, then, as workers together with him, beseech you also that ye receive not the ccrace of God ia vain." CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 127 ZECHAEIAH, Chap, i: verse 5. PSALM xxix: verse 5. PSALM xc: verses 5, 6. HEBREAYS, Chap, ii: verse 6. PSALM xc: verse 10. ACTS, Chap, xii: verses 22, 23. ECCLESIAST'S, Chap, i: verse 14. HEBREWS, Chap, i : verses 10-12. END OF HUMAN GREATNESS. 3Ian dieth and vjastctJi away. Job xiv : 10. The. c/lor]/ of man is as the Jlower of the grass. 1 Pet. i: 24. The grass witherdh, the fiower fadeth. Isa. xl: 8. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. Eccl. I 2. BEnoLD the end of human greatness now: Low to the dust is laid the lofty brow 1 Of princelj' pride a skeleton remains; 'Tis common dust. The broken sword and chains That once enslaved mankind have lost their power: Broken the glass that told his triumph hour; The crumbling monuments bespeak decay, TJie ruined towers, tiie sun's declining VAy; Shattered the oiik that once the storm defied, Scattered the rose-leaves in their beauteous pride. Ah ! such is human life ! its end is death. Its glories scattered by a passing breath. The engraving annexed is emblematic of the frailty and end of human great- ness, and the vanity of sublunary things. In the foreground is the skeleton, per- haps of some mighty warrior who has been the terror of mankind, and has received the homage of nations. Ho lies proutrate, and it would be difficult to distinguish his remains from those of a common beggar. His sword, and iho chains by which he oislaved mankind, are broken ; the hour-glass is also broken, showing that time with him is no longer. The very monuments which have been raised to pcrpctUMle the remembrance of the mighty dead are crumbling. 128 Cnr.ISTIAN SIMILITUDES. Other objects are seen in the back- ground; the splendid palace and stronj^ towers arc fast becoming a heap of rub- bish, the sturdy oak is shattered, the beauteous rose, with its bright leaves, are scattered on the ground, the setting sun behind the desolate city, are all em- blematic of the vanity and end of human greatness. "Time," says Dr. Watts, "like along- flowing stream, makes haste into eter- nity, and is forever lost and swallowed up there; and while it is hastening to its period, it sweeps away all things which are not immortal. There is a limit ap- pointed by Providence to the duration of all the works of men, with all the glories and excellencies of animal na- ture, and all that is made of flesh and blood. Let iis not dote upon any thing here below, for heaven has inscribed vanity upon it. The moment is hasten- ing when the decree of heaven shall be uttered, and Providence shall pronounce upon every glory of the earth, Its time shall be no longer. " What is that stately building, that princely palace, which now entertains and amuses our sight with ranks of mar- ble columns and wide-spreading arches, that gay edifice which enriches our ad- miration with a thousand royal orna- ments, and a profusion of costly and glittering furniture? Time, and all its circling hours, with a swift wing, are brushing it away; decay steals upon it insensibly, and a few years hence it shall lie in moldering ruin and desolation. Unhappy possessor, if he has no better inheritance! " What have we mortals to be proud of in our present state, when every hu- man glory is so fugitive and fading? Let the brightest and best of us say to ourselves that ive are but dust and vanity. Is my body formed upon a graceful model? Are my limbs and my com- plexion better colored than my neigh- bors? Beauty, even in perfection, is of the shortest date; a few years will in- form me that its bloom vanishes, its flower withers, its luster grows dim, its duration shall be no longer; and if life be prolonged, yet the pride and glory of it is forever lost in age and wrinkles; or, perhaps, our vanity meets a speedier fate. Death and the grave, with a sov- ex'eign and irresistible command, sum- mon the brightest as well as the coarsest pieces of human nature to lie down early in their cold embraces, and mix together in corruption. "Even those more ennobling powers of human life, which seem to have some, thing angelical in them — I mean tho powers of mind, imagination, etc. — theso are subject to the same laws of decay and death. What though they can rai8.6 and animate beautiful scenes in a mo- ment, and, in imitation of creatin<,' power, can spread bright appearances and new worlds before the senses anvea and all the joys above, Ye who despise the calls of heavenly love. Behold the Father, now a Judge become, Before whose wrath the guilty soul is dumb; The blessed Savior with averted face, Offers no more his mercy and his grace; Back to their graves the wicked fain would fly Nor dare to meet the Judge's angry eye. Lost! lost forever! all the joys of heaven Reserved for those whose sins are forgiven; Down to the land of black de.«pair they go, To dwell with spirits lost in realms of woe. The final Judge of all, sitting on the throne of judgment, will gather before him both the righteous and the wicked, the small and the great of all nations, to receive according to the works done in this life. At the voice of the last trumpet, it is declared by Him who can not lie, the dead shall be raised: "They that have done good unto the resurrection of life, they that have done evil unto the resurrection of damnation." CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 131 The wicked rise from their graves. Terror-struck at the sight of their J iidge, whose face is against them, they call on rocks and mountains to hide them from his presence. Instead of seeing the bow of promise in the clouds, they Bee one of condemnation; instead of being light and brilliant, it is one of darkness, on which the doom of the wicked is set forth by the declaration, "The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God." Instead of ministering angels as a con- voy to heaven above, one appeai-s with a flaming sword, driving them to the dark regions below. That there is a place of punishment for the wicked after death, has been acknowledged in all ages, among all countries and nations. Heathens, and even savages, have, in their religious creed, a place of torment for the wicked. This important truth seems to be pos- itively set forth in many places on the ])ages of Divine Revelation. In the Siccount given us of Dives and Lazarus, it is stated that the rich man died and was buried, and in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torment. In whatever light this account is taken, the great truth of future punishment after death can not be successfully controverted. Even if viewed in the light of a para- ble, as some few contend, it conveys the same truth as if it was a real his- t.ory. Either a man may live, as is here related, and go to perdition when he dies ; or some have lived in this way, and have suffered in the manner here described. "The general consideration of a future state of punishment," says Bishop But- ler, in his Analogy of Jidigion, most ev- idently belongs to the subject of natural religion. . . . The reader is desired to observe that Gentile writers, both moralists and poets, speak of the future punishment of the wicked, both as to the duration and degree of it, in a like manner of expression as the Scriptures do; so that all which can positively be asserted to be a matter of mere rev- elation, with regard to this doctrine, seems to be that the great distinction between the righteous shall be made at the end of this world; that each shall THEN receive according to his deserts. . . . Hevolation teaches us that the next state of things after the present is appointed for the execution of this justice, that it shall be no longer delayed; but the mystery of God, the great mystery of his suffering, vice and confusion to prevail, shall then be finished; and he will take to him his great power, and will reign by render- ing to every one according to his works." It is stated that in the future pun- ishment of the wicked, "their worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched." "The first thing intended by the ex- pression worm that never dieth," says an able writer, "seems to be a guilty conscience, including self-condemnation, sorrow, shame, and remorse. May wo not have some conception of this by what is sometimes felt, even in this present world? Is it not this, chiefly, of which Solomon speaks, when he says, 'The spirit of a man may bear his in- firmities, but a wounded spirit who can bear?' "Who can bear the anguish of an awakened conscience penetrated with the sense of guilt, and the arrows of the Almighty sticking in the sonl and drinking up the spirit? How many of the stout-hearted have sunk under it, and chosen strangling rather than life!" On the dread subject of the state of the wicked after death, much has been said and written which is unauthor- ized by Scripture. The precise niean- ing of the terms used in regard to the duration of the punishment 6f the wicked has not yet been finally set- tled among thinking minds. It, hcfw- ever, appears to bo clearly revealed that at the Day of Judgment there is 132 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. to be a separation made between the righteous and the wicked. Between these classes there can be no real affin- ity. The one loved Grod in sincerity, labored after a conformity to him, and endeavored to keep his commandments; the other preferred a life of sin to that of holiness. As they were at their death, so will they continue to be, as is declared in Eev. xxii : 11 : "He that is unjust, let him be unjust still: and he that is filthy, let him be filthy still : and he that is righteous, let him be righteous still: and he that is holy, let him be holy still." Much of Bible instruction is con- veyed in parables and in figurative language. When these are used in de- scribing the state of the wicked after death, they denote a fearful punishment. What is its precise nature or amount we can not tell, but it is sufficient for us to know that we are constantly warned and entreated to flee from the doom which awaits the ungodly. We may, perhaps, think that God is such a merciful being that he will not punish the wicked in the future state; but we must remember that justice, as well as mercy, is one of the divine attributes. We believe that God is a being of infi- nite goodness, mercy, and love. The existence of sin in our world is a mys- tery to us, but we see it with its at- tendant miseries in various forms around us. If such things can exist in consistency with hisgoodness and mercy now, why not hereafter? The moment the soul leaves the body it passes into another state of existence, either of happiness or of misery. The dying thief, when about expiring on the cross, prayed our Lord to remember him when he came into his kingdom. In answer to his re- quest, he received the blessed assurance that he would that very day be with him in paradise. On the other hand, those who die in impenitence and unbelief can not come where Christ is. It is true we can not describe the mode of the existence of the soul separated from the body, but that we can so exist we have demon- stration in the fact that when we are asleep we see, hear, and act without the aid of our eyes, ears, and limbs. According to the testimony of the Scriptures, it appears that the wicked are reserved in chains unto the judgment of the great day^ the time of the final judgment, when angels and men shall receive their eternal doom. There will, at the last day, be a resurrection of the bodies both of the just and unjust; the Judge will say to the wicked, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." The devil and his angels sinned before the creation of the world; and as the wicked are partakers with the devil and his angels in their re- bellion against God, so it is right that they should be sharers with them in their punishment. CHEISTIAX SIMILITUDES. 133 ISAIAH, Chap, iii: verse 10. MATTHEW, Chap. XXV : verse 46. EOMANS, Chap, ii : verse 7. EEVELATION, Chap, xxi : verse 4. EEyELATIO:N", Chap, vii: verses 16, 17. MATTHEW, Chap. XXV : verse 34. JOHX, Chap, xvii: verse 24. PSALM xvi: verse 11. TEE FUTURE OF THE EIGHTEOUS. All that are in their graves shall hear his voice; they that have done good unto the resurrection of life. John v: 29. And so shall we ever be with the Lord. 1 Thess. iv: 17. Bright Future! opening to the good man's eyes, The bow of promise spans tlie glorious skies, In snowy robes arrayed, the shining throngs Of earth's redeemed, fill heaven with joyful songs. AVhile from the skies the angel floating down, Displays before his eyes the starry crown, And glittering legions from heaven's high dome, Swell forth the joyful summons, welcome homel The final Judge of all men is repre- sented in the Scriptures as cominij in the clouds of heaven, attended by angelic hosts. When seated on the throne of his glory, all nations shall be gathered befoi-o him. The bow seen in the cloud shows that the Almighty is a covenant- keeping God, and will surely fulfill all his promises. The righteous dead, burst- ing their tombs, will arise with joy at the summons of the last trumpet. Clad in celestial robes, they ascend on high; the ministering angel displays the crown of immortality, the sure inheritance of every believer. The existence of the righteous and the 134 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES. wicked, in a future state, has been, by Divine Revelation, placed beyond all doubt. God hath promised eternal life to the righteous. Heaven is to be con- sidered as a place as well as state, in accordance to what is stated in John xiv: 2: "In my Father's house are many mansions; if it Avere not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." The existence of the body of Christ, and those of Enoch and Elijah, is a further proof of it. For if it be not a place, where can these bodies be? and where will the bodies of the saints exist after the resurrection ? Some suppose that this earth, after it is refined and purified, will be the dwelling-place of the righteous. "The new heavens and the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness," is thought will corre- spond with the Garden of Eden, as it first came from the hands of the Creator. Heaven, wherever located, will be a place of inexpressible felicity. It is called "a paradise," a "building and mansion of God," "a city, a better coun- try," "an inheritance, a kingdom, a crown." It is described as a place, or state of rest, peace, "joy in the Lord, glory," etc. The felicit}^ of heaven will consist in freedom from all evil, both of soul and body, in the enjoyment of God as the chief good, in company of angels and saints, and in perfect holiness. In this j)rospect, the Christian exclaims, "0 glorious hour! hlest abode! I shall be near and like my God ! , And flesli and sin no more control The sacred pleasures of the soul.' A question is sometimes proposed, "Will the righteous know each other in heaven?" The arguments generally brought forward to sustain the fact that it will be so, are. taken from the in- stances recorded in Scripture, in which persons who have never seen one another before, have immediately known each other in this world by a divine revela- tion. "We read that at the transfigura- tion of our Lord, Peter, James, and John knew Moses and Elias, as appears from Peter's making a particular mention of them — " Let us make three tabernacles ; one for thee, one for Moses, and one for Elias ! " — though he had never seen them before. Our Savior, in the parable, represents the rich man as seeing Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom, and speaks of him as addressing his discourse to him. Paul says, "AYhat is our hope or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the pi'esence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming? for ye are our glory and joy." The change to be made in the bodies of the righteous will consist cliiefly in three things: I. The body shall be uaised imnwrlal and incor- ruptible. II. It will be raised in glory. III. It will be raised iri j)ower. 1. When this corruptible shall put on incor- ruption, we shall not be subject to sickness or pain; "the redemption of our bodies," signifies that we shall be perfectly free from all bodily evils which sin has brought into the world. 2. Our bodies shall be raised in glory, for it is said, "Then shall the righteous shine as the sun in the kingdom of their Fatlier." A resemblance of this we have in the luster of Moses' face, when he had conversed with God on the mount. When the martyr Stephen was before the council at Jerusalem, they " saw his face as it had been the face of an angel. ' When Peter and his com- panions saw our Lord's face on the Mount of Transfiguration, it shone like the sun, and his raiment became white as snow. Peter was trans- ported with joy and admiration. The unspeak- able joy that we shall then feel will shine forth in our countenances. 3. The bodies of the righteous "shall be raised in power." This expresses the sprightliness of our heavenly bodies, the nimbleness of their mo- tion, by whicli they shall be obedient and able instruments of the soul. Ihis earthly body is slow and heavy in all its motions, listless, and soon tired with action. But our heavenly bodies will be as active and nimble as our thoughts are. Our bodies being spiritual will serve our spirits, and minister to them; whereas now our spirits are forced to serve our bodies, and attend to their leisure, and do greatly depend upon them for our actions. When the righteous enter the glorious future, their bodies will be purified and refined from earthly grossness, and every power find sweet employ, while ceaseless ages roll ! CHRISTIAN" SIMILITUDES, 135 THE HERMIT; OB THE WAYS OF PROVIDENCE JUSTIFIED. [Somewhat varied from "The Hermii," oy Parnell.] "Far in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend hermit grew; The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well Remote from man, with God he passed his d;iys, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.' In a far distant country, and at a re- mote period of time, tliere retired from the busy scenes of the world a young man, who spent the remainder of his days as a hermit. Having, in the morning of life, met with severe af- fliction from the hands of his fellow- men, he resolved to have no more fellow- ship with them, but to seek his happiness in the performance of religious duties. For this purpose he retired to a kind of cave in a mountainous part of the country, which, with a little labor, he converted into a comfortable habitation. A sparkling rill fell near the door of his cot from the rocky heights above, and gave him an ample supply of pure and cold water. A small but beautiful plat of ground lay directly in front, which, by cultivation, afforded him abundance of food; a small flock, of which he was a kind shepherd, supplied him with clothing. A life thus spent gave a calm, se- rene, and heavenly repose, which would, pT'obably, have continued, but for tlio accidental visit of a traveler, who gave him an account of the state of the world, and. in particular, how wicked- ness prevailed, how vile men apparently prospered, and, also, how the cause oi righteousness was trampled clown in tlie earth, and how aften good men suffered from the violence and persecu* 136 CHEISriA:?^ SIMILITUDES tion of the wicked. The hermit was astonished, and hardly knew what to think. Doubts sj^rung up in his mind whether a Divine Providence'did really govern the world or not. He was dis- turbed; the even tenor of his soul was lost, and he felt unhappy. ,*' So when a smooth expanse receives impressed Calm nature's image on its watery breast, Down bend the banks, the trees impending grow, _ - And skies beneath with answering colors glow. But if a stone the gentle sea divide, . ywift ruffling circles curl on every side; And glimmering fragments of a broken sun ; Banks, trees, and skies in thick disorder run." To clear his doubts on this perplex- ing subject, the hermit resolved to travel and see for himself if the world was so badly governed as had been represented. He, accordingly, com- menced his journey with the rising sun, and passed through long and lone- some wilds before he aj)proached the habitations of men. As the sun ap- proached midway of the heavens, "A youth came posting o'er a crossing way, His raiment decent, his complexion fair. And soft, in graceful ringlets, fell his hair; Then, near approachmg. Father, hail! he cried ; And hail, my son ! the reverend sire replied ; Words followed words, from question answer flowed, And talk of various kinds deceived the road; Till each with other pleased, and loath to part, While in their age they differ, joined in heart; Thus stands an aged elm in ivy bound, Thus youthful ivy clasps an elm around." The two travelers were so much pleased with each other that they de- termined to continue their journey to- gether. The youth appeared to possess knowledge far beyond his years. The hermit, being very desirous to know the reason or cause of every thing he saw about him, continually kept asking questions. His companion finally told him, if he would keep silent on thia particular subject, he would explain all things to his satisfaction when they arrived at the end of their journey. The hermit and his companion passed pleasantly along till the closing hour of day, and when the busy world was sinking into repose they drew near a stately palace. By the .light of the moon they traversed the pathway adorned with shrubbery and flowers; tall and graceful trees stood in ranks around. The master of the mansion made his house the wandering stranger's home; yet his kindness arose, in some degree at least, from a thirst of human applause. When the pair arrived at the gate they found attentive servants, with their lord in attendance, waiting to receive them. They were conducted to a table loaded with rich and costly food, and pressed to partake of the various delicacies. When the hour of rest arrived, they were conducted to the elegant eastern chambers of the mansion, where they sunk to repose on beds of down, beneath a silken canopy. In the morning, before their de- parture, a rich banquet was provided for them ; and, among other things, the master of the house brought rich, lus- cious wine in a golden goblet, of which he pressed his guests to partake. When they left the hospitable mansion, the younger guest secretly took the golden cup and hid it in the folds of his vest- ure. After they had proceded some distance on their journey, the youth drew from the place of its concealment the golden goblet which had been so conspicuously displayed at the hos- pitable mansion-house. The hermitwas confounded at the conduct of his com. j)anion. The travelers passed on till near the close of day, when the sun became shrouded with black clouds, and the deep thunder rolled in the distance. It came nearer; the wind roared, the rain descended, the forked lightning CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES, 137 flashed around, and the thunder be- { gi'ound, to which they fled for shelter. came loud and terrible. A turreted, The buildinii; -was larj/e and stronj;, and wero eastle-like building was seen on rising j the extensive grounds about it p* As one who spies a serpent in his way, Glistening and basking in the summer ray. Disordered, stops, to shun the danger near, Then walks with faintness on, and looks with fear; [heart: So seeiued the sire, he walked with trembling And much he wished, but durst not ask to part; Murmuring, he lifts his eyes, and thinks it hard, That generous actions meet a base re- ward."] unimproved. The owners of this hab- itation were, in temper, timorous and severe. They were considered unkind and griping, and every thing about their premises appeared desert-like and forbidding. Driven by the wind, and drenched b}^ the rain, they arrived at the miser's door and knocked for ad- mittance. For a long time it was in vain. At length some pity seemed to move ^he miser's breast. It was the first time that his house had ever received a guest. Slowly he turned the creak- ing door with jealous care, and he half welcomes the suffering pair. With a few fagot sticks he lights the naked walls by which the travelers are able only to partially dry their clothing. A small quantity of the coarsest bread, and wine of the poorest quality, was set before them; each, hardly granted, served them both for a meal. As soon as the tempest had ceased, and suf- ficient light had appeared, so that they could discern their pathway, they re- ceived an intimation to depart in peace. As they parted from their miserly host, the youth drew from his vest and presented him with the golden cup he had taken from the generous landlord who had entertained them in so princely a manner. The miser re- ceived the glittering gift with startled eyes, and Avas so overwhelmed at the princely reward for his stinted kind- ness, that he sunk to the earth in sur- prise, and before he could suflficicntly recover himself to thank his gencrotxs guests, they had traveled out of his sight and hearing. The dark clouds were soon scattered, 138 CHEISTIAN SIMILITUDES the blue sky appeared, and the sun shone forth in splondor and beauty. The fragrant leaves displayed a fresher green, and all nature rejoiced in the light of the sun. The travelers con- tinued their journey. The hermit's mind labored with uncertain thought. No cause appeared for his companion's acts. To steal a cup from a generous man and give it to a miserly creature who would scarcely admit them within his gate. One act seemed a vice, the other appeared like madness. While he, detested the one he pitied the other. In the contemplation of both, his mind became lost, confused, and confounded. Night again overtook the travelers, and again the}' sought a shelter. They soon found a mansion, neat and com- fortable in appearance, "neither poorly low nor idly great." The soil was well improved around it, and every thing seemed to show the turn of its master's mind, of contentment, industry, and virtue. The weary travelers arriving at the mansion, greeted its master, and modestly asked for food and shelter. lie received them courteously, and, without vanity, ostentation or grudg- ing, he welcomed them to his house, j)iously remarking that as all he pos- sessed was given him by Grod, he was "Hia youthful face grew more serenely sweet; Hifa robe turned white and flowed about bia feet ; And wings whose colors glittered like the day Wide at his back the dazzling plumes display. The form ethereal bursts upon his sight, And moves in all the majesty of light; Surprise in chains the Pilgrim's words sus- pends, And in a calm his settling temper ends ; But silence here the beauteous angel broke; The voice of music ravished as he spoke." under obligation, and felt willing to bestow a portion in acts of hospitality, charity, and mercy. A table of sub- stantial and nutritious • food was set before them, and they were bid wel- come to whatever the house atforded. The evening was spent in religious and profitable conversation, and, be- fore retiring to rest, the whole house- hold called together, and the day and evening closed by prayer and praise. Refreshed by calm repose, the two travelers arose, invigorated, to pursue their journey. But before they left the hospitable mansion of the good man, the youth, the younger guest, in a CHRISTIAN SIMILITUDES. 139 stealthy manner crept up to the cradle, where the darling and only son lay sleeping. Grasping the neck of the landlord's little pride it was strangled; it grew black in the face, gasped and died. Struck dumb with horror at the deed, the hermit at once attempted to fly from the presence of one whose actions appeared to be those of an in- fernal demon. The hermit fled, trem- bling, but could make but little speed, being overwhelmed at the scene he had witnessed. The youth pursued his steps; the road through the country which they had to pass being difficult to find, the good man at whose house they had last lodged, sent his serrvant for a guide. A river crossed the path ; large trees had been felled across it, which served for a bridge. The youth, who followed the guide close behind, seemingly in- tent on mischief, watching his oppor- tunity', thrust him off the perilous bridge into the stream below, where he perished amid the deep waters. \v hen tliC hermit saw this last act of his companion, he could hold his peace no longer. Swelling with rage, he cried out, ^^ Detested icretchr' He had scarcely pronounced these words when his strange partner seemed no longer man. "Know," said the angel to the hermit, "I was sent to enlighten thy mind. Thy prayers and praise, and thy vir- tuous life, have arisen as a sweet memo*- rial before the throne of the Etei'nal. I am but thy fellow-servant, com- missioned to remove doubts which arise in thy mind when contemplating the goodness or equity of the Divine Government. The Maker of all things justly chiinis the world that he has made. He has the right to govern it according to his own will. Ho uses second means to accomplish his pur- poses, and sometimes appoints wicked and abandoned wretches to bo his instru- ments of justice upon others, though unperceived by mortal eyes. While men are accomplishing their own devices, God is overruling all things to bring about his sovei'eign purposes. "True," said the angel still addressing himself to the hermit, "thou hast scon many strange things- since we have been together; Yet, taught by these, confess the Almighty ju.st. And where thou can't unriddle, learn to trust. The rich man in the palace where we staid the first night, who made his guests drink large draughts of wine in his golden cup, has, by having it stolen, given up that bad custom. I gave the cup to the miser, to teach him tliat heaven can reward a generous action. The pious man, whose child I strangled, had long trod in virtue's path, but now the child began to wean his heart, from God. To save the father the son was taken. To all but us the child seemed to die in fits, but I was sent to take its life. The guide whom I drowned, had he returned to the pious man, his master, would have that very night robbed and murdered him, and then how many poor and distressed persons would have suffered for the want of his charitable donations. Thus heaven instructs thy mind ; this trial o'er, Depart in peace, resign and sin no more." On sounding pinions here the youth with- drew ; The sage stood wondering as the seraph flew. Thus looked Elislia when to mount on higli, His master took the chariot of the sky ; The fiery pomp ascending left the view, The prophet gazed and wished to follow too. The bending hermit here a prayer begun, "Lord! as in heaven, on earth thy will be done;" Then, gladly turning, sought his ancient place, And passed a life of piety and peace. THE X SXJ]Nrr)A.Y BOOK OF Pleasing and Comforting Literature, FROM THE BEST WRITERS. By HENRY HO^VE, AUTHOR OF HIST. COLS. OF OHIO, COLS. OF VIBGINIA. THE GREAT WEST, ETC., ETC. BRADLEY, GARRETSON & CO., PHILADELPHIA, No. 66 NORTH FOURTH STREET, WILLIAM GARRETSON & CO., GALESBURG, ILL., COLUMBUS, OHIO, NASHVILLE, TENN., HOUSTON, TEXAS, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 1875. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year mdccclxvi. By F a. HOWE, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of tne United States, for the Southern District of Ohio, SUNDAY BOOK. INTRODUCTORY. Herein we have, according to our judgment, a collection adapted to fhe wants and tastes of that large class whose property in books is restricted to such very narrow limits, that, in many cases, to possess the acquaintance of even a single bookseller, would require the formality of a personal introduction. The book- seller is, in truth, the last man who emigrates — the last to be established in a Dew community. Among humble people are delicate, sensitive spirits, exquisiteh' organized, gifted in mental powers, beautiful in moral qualities, but denied the benetits and delights of congenial, social intercourse. This arises from their personal isola- tion, or from the conventionalities of our even, as j-et, imperfectly developed con- dition, which gives a false estimate to station, family, and material acquisitions, while the Christ-presented view of the value of the human soul, as the greatest of all created things, is only just beginning to be discerned. Thanks for this to (Christian Literature; for it is the great leveler and the great elevator— a demo- crat and a more than king. Through it all alike have the best expressed ideas of the finest minds, the utterances of the noblest souls that away in the past ages towered above the forgotten myriads. Being dead, their spirits yet live, and without insulting exactions to pomp, without humiliations to arrogance, come to inform, refresh and solace even the most unobtrusive being that modestly moves along the sequestered paths. In their cheerful compan}' the green pas- tures seem more peaceful, and as they lead us beside the still waters, the soft- tinted glories appear to rest there more sweetly. We Americans are so much absorbed in developing the magnificent resources of our beautiful country, in building for those who are to inherit its blessings, that few, in their hurried lives, find calm, quiet hours in which to read and to enjoy. Hasty glances at the sheet given to the details of passing events, is about the sum total of the attention of the great mass of our people to the great world of letters. Compends of approved literature, arranged for fragments of time, as a kind of intellectual lunches, are therefore a general want and a public benefit. Among much in this collection that is new will be found much that is old. And this last is not an objection. What we have read in youth, we often read again after the lapse of years with fresh delight. The old man gTOwn wise as he approaches the softening twilight, on visiting the scenes of his boyhocd. dis- covers new beauties in the landscape, derives new sensations from its blue arching sky. Memories of the far past tenderly unite themselves to the pres- ent with a sweet and soothing melancholy. He reflects upon Avhat he was and what he is. Visions, too, of the future rise before him— perhaps visions of celestial glory, of eternal rest, of the bliss of an all-pervading, soul-absorbing love. Cincinnati, O. H. H. CONTENTS OF THE SUNDAY BOOK OF PLEASING AND COMFORTING LITERATURE. AtrrnOR. PAGE The Druid, the Jew, and the Christian Prose Mrs. Charles.. 7 Conscience Poetry Edward Young Irf James Grahame 14 .Soame Jenyns 14 George W. Fulcher 15 Oliver Goldsmith 15 Nathaniel Cotton 17 Alexander Pope 17 John Gay IS Goldsmith 18 The Sabbath " Unending Life on Earth Undesirable " The Dying Child " The Deserted Village " Sweetness of Night " Universal Prayer " A Thought on Eternity " The Divine Goodness apparent in the -i p j^,. ^ Adaptation of the Earth to Man, j Christ's Entrance into Jerusalem Poetry Nathaniel P. Willis 20 Human Love " " '' 21 Tlie Pleasant Path in Life " " « 21 Contemplation " " « 21 Childhood " " « 21 Interesting Information upon the Bible Prose Various 22 What is in Heaven Poetry Richard RoUe 25 Delight in God only " Francis Quarles 25 The Emptiness of Riches " Edward Young 26 The New Jerusalem " 26 The Immortality of the Soul Prose Joseph Addison 27 The Common Lot Poetry James Montgomery 28 Elegy in a Country Church-yard " Thomas Gray 20 The Ancient Man Prose Jean Paul Richter 30 The Good Old Grandmother Poetry 36 The Hour of Setting Day •' Mrs. Browne 37 The Evening Hour.... " Tlire Summer Morning " Little Christel " .Leonard Bacon Si . 37 . 37 CONTEXTS OF SUNDAY BOOK. AUTHOR. PAOB Omniscience and Omnipresence of the Deity Prose Joseph Addison 39 Our Imperfect Knowledge of a Future State -i „ R h pi • suited to the Condition of Man, J The Hour of Prayer Poetry Mrs. Hemans 43 The Evening Bells " Thomas Moore 44 The Three Sons " James Moultrie 44 The Insect of a Day Prose 45 jReligion the Foundation of Content " Samuel Johnson 47 Little Things Poetry Thomas Davis 50 The Unregarded Toils of the Poor ' " Mary Ilowitt 50 An Evening Reverie " William C. Bryant 50 The Mountain of Miseries Prose Joseph Addison 51 My Psalm Poetry John G. Whittier 54 The Happy Soul " Isaac Watts 55 Eloquence of the Scriptures Prose Stackhouse 55 Holy Scriptures Poetry 59 Footsteps of Angels " Henry W. Longfellow 60 The Happy Life " Sir Henry VVotten 60 Resignation " Henry W. Longfellow 01 The Grand Object of Religion Prose Dr. Clark 61 Comforts of Religion •. " Dr. Gregory 62 Trust in God and do the Right Poetry Norman McLeod 63 A Good Conscience " R. Southwell 63 Man's Mortality " Simon Wastell 64 Influence of the Parental Character Prose Ricliard Cecil 64 Honor Neale Poetry ...Archbishop Trench 66 Content and Discontent " " " 69 The Mariner's Dream " Dimond 69 The Three Warnings " Mrs. Thrale 70 The Present Life Preparatory to-) r> t 1 » 1 1- -i ^ •' I, Prose Joseph Addison d the Happiness of Eternity, j Vague Hopes of Nature Poetry Alexander Pope 73 The Beacon " Thomas Moore 73 The Creation " C. F. Alexander 73 Joy in Believing Prose Mrs. Charles 74 The Lowly Heart Poetry Ann Lctitia Waring 77 Lord, Remember Me " Thomas Ilaweis 78 Love Song of the Angels " Edmund H. Sears 78 Rest in Jesus " Henry F. Lyte 78 Rock of Ages " Aug. M. Toplady 70 Consolation in Sickness " " " 79 Nearer my God " Sarah F. Adams W Thankfulness for Worldly Blessings Prose Tzaak Walton 80 The Spotless Character of Christ " Jeremy Taylor 8."i Marriage... " " " 84 The Baby Soldier Poetry 86 Little Mary's Good Morning to God " S6 28 vi CONTENTS OF SUNDAY BOOK, ArniOR. PAOB Rejoicing in our Risen Lord Poetry Schonberg Cotta Family 86 C. Elliott 87 William Cowper 87 " 87 Just as I am... " Rural Sounds " City and Country Compared " A Home Scene " Oppression " Liberty " Spiritual Liberty " Pleasure from the Enjoyment of Animals " The Happy Man " The Hermit " Diversity in Human Character _.... " Alexander Pope 92 Love of Nature tends to Love of God Prose John Ruskin 92 . " " 88 . " " 88 . " " 88 . " " 88 " " 89 . " " 90 .James Beattie 91 Chimes of Noon Poetry , Follow Me " • Edna Dean Proctor. 95 96 Soliloquy of Alexander Selkirk " William Cowper 96 97 Contentment " The Autumn Evening " The Flight of Time " A Sabbath Retrospect " " Peabody 97 " James G. Percival 97 " Henry AV. Longfellow 98 Fritz Instructing the Children Prose Schonberg Cotta Family 98 ^|uNDAyP00K of IP leasing Am J^OMFOETING'^ITEEATURE. THE DEUID, THE JEW, AND THE CHEISTIAN. [We begin this collecticm with an article from "Sketches of Cliristiun Life in England." It comprises the opening chapter, entitled " Lights and Shadows oitlie Early Dawn." It is diliicult for us Americans, descendants oi Englislimeu, to realize that, in the ages ot antiqiiitj-, our lorelathers could have been so sunken in tixe deptlis of superstition as to olier up human beings in sacrifice to the unknown spirits that they iielievedcontroll<>d the destinies of man. In this contempla- tion we can but see how awful the conception, where reve- lation has been withheld, of the Power that created and Eoverns otir world, and how the human heart, in all ages, has yearned for spiritual guidance ami protection. 'J'o tinci in it, at last, a loving Father and most tender fr ierid should e"em a sweet surprise to a race individually given here hut a brief duration— their own existence the most profound of IPi'steries, and enveloped in alternate gloom and sunshine.] One midsummer's eve, more than sev- enteen centuries ago, the red gleams of a huge bonfire contended witli the pale moonbeams in clothing with fantastic light and shade the gigantic piles of gran- ite which crest, as with a natural fortress, that point of the Cornish coast now called Trerhyn Castle. The wild flickering of the flames leaped high enough at times oven to touch with tlieir fiery glow the edges of the mysterious Logan rock, which crowns the summit. That it was no mere bonfire of merry- makers might be easily seen in the car- nest faces and grave movements of the men gathered round it. Tliey were not min- gled in a confused throng, nor scattered in irregular groups, but moved solemnly round the fire from east to west, follow- ing the course of the sun, now hidden from the gaze from that shoreless ocean whose waves thundered ceaselessly against the base of the cliff on which they were assembled. Their steps were the slow and meas- ured movements of a sacred mystic dance ; and as they circled round the blaze, thev sang a wild, monotonous chant, to whicli the minor intervals gave, not the plaint- ive tenderness of a major melody broken by a minor fall, but rather the abrupt and savage restlessness of a combined wail and war-cry. From time to time, the song rose with the flames into a defiant shout, and then sank again into the low crooning of a dirge, the steps of the sing- ers changing with the music from a raj)id march to the slow tramp of a funeral pro- cession. The sacred music of that old British race resolved itself into no calm, restful, major close. Theirs was the worship of a conquered race, and of a proscribed religion. Driven \)y the Romans from their tem2)les in the interior of the island — temples whoso unhewn and i>-iu;antic grandeur not even the persistency of Iloman enmity could ruin — this little band of the old lords of the land had met in that remote recess, not yet trodden by the conqueror's feet, to celebrate the rites of their ancient faith, under the guidance of one of their own proscribed Druid priesthood. There, under the shadow of that grand natural fortress, to us so like one ottiieir own Druid temples, they had kindled on May-day the sacred "Fire of God;" and here on midsummer eve they now gath- ered round the "Fire of rouce."' 8 SUNDAY BOOK OF At length the rites, endeared to them as the last relics of their national exist- ence, were finished; the wild chant was tsiJent, succeeded by the ceaseless roar Df the breakers; and the torches were kindled at the sacred fire, to relight once more, from a sacred source, the household tires that night, according to their cus- tom, extinguished. One by one the little British company dispersed, and could be traced along tlie cliffs, or inland across the unbroken moorland, by the glare of their torches. The Druid was left alone. A solemn, solitary figure, he stood on the deserted space by the decaying fire, his fine form still erect, although the long beard, cliar- acteristic of his priestly office, was snow- white with age. The fitful glow of the expiring embers threw a mysterious light on the fbldsof his Avhite robe, and gleamed on the rays of the broad golden circlet which bound his brow. Turning from the fii*e, he looked across the sea, scarcely more solitary or wild than the rugged shore on which he lingered. It was always a dreary moment to him when the solemn rites were over, and the worshipers were gone. A few minutes since he had stood before the awe-strick- en throng as one altogether apart and exalted, a medium of intercourse with the unknown supreme powers, a repre- sentative of the majesty so dimly under- stood, so vividly dreaded ; and their faith had thrown back a reflected reality on his. But now he stood alone, a mortal man, to whom the unseen was, indeed, as unknown as to the meanest of those wor- shipers ; and he felt he would gladly have borrowed from the meanest and most credulous among them that faith in the invisible which his presence in- spired in others, but Avhich he found it so hard to maintain in himself. His peo- ple, looking with dim and longing eyes into the infinite, at least saw Am, while he saw only a blank infinity. Musing thus, he gazed on that restless, Doundless ocean, the broad sweep of whose waves measured the long path of moonlight with their perspective of di- minishing curves. Could it be possible, he thought, that at the end of that ra- diant pathway, human eyes (were they but pure enough) might see the silvery outlines of that '' Isle of the Brave, ''where he taught his people the spirits of their dead were resting? Could it be that the waves which broke with that wild and wistful music at his feet might sound in human ears (were they but worthy to hear) the echoes of those deathless shores in tlie far west, where perhaps they had received their first impulse? Thus he was musing, until his reverie was broken by the sound of footsteps close at hand. Turning hastily round, he saw between him and the fire a dark form wrajit in a Eoman mantle. "Who art thou," he asked abruptly, "that has tracked us thus to our last refuge? Thou hast lighted on what may prove to thee a treasure better than any of the mines thy peoi^le grudge us. Doubtless thou seest," he added bitterly, "that I am one of that proscribed Druid priesthood whom, unarmed and defense- less, your Eoman armies so much dread. Denounce me to the I'ulers if thou wilt. I will follow thee without a struggle. Of what avail to me is life? And who knows what secret death may teach ?" "I am no Eoman," said the stranger, sadly. "On my people, also, the wrath of those irresistible legions has fiallen. I, also, am one of the priesthood of a pro- scribed religion, and of a conquered race. Far in the east, my people had once a city beautiful beyond all on earth, and a temple where white-robed priests, mi- tered with gold, ministered and sacrificed to Him whose name must not be uttered. Our temple is burned with fire, our city is laid waste, and trodden under foot of strangers; our peoyjle are scattered east and west, and I among them. I had lost my way to-night on this wild coast, as I was journeying to the port near this, whither of old our fathers came to traffic, PLEASING AND COMFOETING LITEEATUEE, ^* when seeing the unusual gleam of this fire, I came to learn what it meant. Thou seest no ally of the Eomans in me." The Druid was appeased, and lay aside his j)riestly vestments; he appeared in the ordinary Celtic jjlaid worn by his tribe. The two men found a strange link in their isolation from other men; and, piling up tfie scattered logs on the dying embers, they agreed to remain together there until the dawn should throw suf- ficient light on their i:)ath to enable them to travel safely along those rugged cliffs against which the waves, now hidden in the shades of night, seemed to roar and chafe like raging and disappointed beasts of prey. "Your priestly vestments remind me strangely," said the Hebrew, when they were reseated by the fire, "of the sacred robes my forefather wore of old. Whence did your religion come?" " The sources of sacred things are hid- den in night," re2)lied the Druid. "Some say our i*eligion was taught direct from heaven ; some, that it was brought, before the memory of man, from a land in the far East, whence, after the great flood, the father and the mother of our race came forth." "In those distant ages," said the Jew, "doubtless your forefathers and ours were one. Since you had a priesthood, had you then also a temple and sacred rites?" "We had many temples," was the re- P'yi "gigantic circles of stone, as un- hewn and as enormous as these amidst which we stand. Huge fragments of the solemn cliffs, and mountains, set up in unrivaled majesty on the solitary sweeps of our great inland plains, roofed by the heavens and floored by the bare unsmoothed earth. I laugh when I sec the pigmy temples in wliich these Eo- mans bow down before their little men and Avomen gods." "You had, then, no graven images?" " Of old we had none, and never any in our temples. We have but one image of the highest; if, indeed," he added, in a low and awed voice, "he is only an image! Our worship is directed to tlio sun. Following his eternal course from east to west, our sacred dances move. At his rising, we rejoice. When, in flow- ery May, his beams once more begin to make the earth fruitful, we kindle in his honor the Fire of God, and begin our year anew. AYhen he has risen in mid- summer to his highest seat in the heav- ens, and reigns in his fullest might, wo kindle the sacred 'Fire of Peace,' as to- night, in honor of his peaceful and con- summated dominion." " Since, then, you had temples, had you also sacrifices?" " We had," was the solemn reply; "but not such as those of the Eomans ; not only the white steer from the herd, or the spotless lamb from the flock ; we offered to our gods costlier sacrifices than tliese, and dearer life." " What life, then ?" said the Jew in horror. " The only life worthy to be accepted for the .life of man," was the reply; "tho only life Avorthy to be offered to the Im- mortal." "Your altars were stained with human blood!" said the Jew, with a shudder; "your people had indeed, then, a differ- ent law from mine. But to whom," lie continued, after a pause, " did you ofl'er these terrible oft'erings?" "The various tribes of our race had various names for him," said the Di'uid, in a low voice. "Some called him llu, and some Dhia or Dhe, and some I3e"al, the life of all life, the source of all being." The Jew started as the name de- nounced by his prophets, and abhorred by his race, fell on his car, yet strangely blended with a word like the uncommu- nicable name he might not utter, tho mysterious Jah. '"It is very strange !" he said at length. "Your Avords sound to me like the echo of the utterances of the prophets of my people, resounding through the ages as the waves through one of these ocean 10 SITNDAY BOOK OF caverns, broken as they rebound in Bti'ange discords and wild confusion. Had you then no sacred writings?"' "We have none," said the Druid. "Our aged priests teach the sacred words in .solemn chants to the priestlj^ neophytes, and initiate them in the sacred rites. So we were taught; so shall we teach those that follow, if the world of our race is to endure." "But," said the Jew, "did j^ou never shrink from the sufferings of the victims as you sacrificed them, or think whether there might not be some piety in the Eternal, which might revolt from such rites?" "Am I not a man?" was the reply. "Doubtless my heart often ached at the sufferings of those we sacrificed, espe- cially at first. But the sufferers were, for the most part, criminals, or captives taken in war ; and what was I, to be wiser than the aged who taught me?" The remembrance of the sacred name, revealed to the law-giver of his nation, rushed in on the heart of the Jew — of "Jehovah Jehovah Elohim," the eternal and the mighty, "merciful and gracious, long-suffering, abounding in goodness and truth, yet by no means clearing the guilty;" and with it came the recollec- tion of that ritual so stern in its demands for the acknowledgment of sin, and of the forfeited right of the sinner to life, yet so jealous in its guard over that hu- man life it declared forfeit. "Are you sure that your god hears you when you thus invoke and sacrifice to him?" he said, after a jjause. "We assure the people of these things," was the evasive reply ; " and also of re- wards and punishments in the world be- yond. The people need the barriers of such belief to keep them from crime." "But you do not teach what you do not believe?" " Belief is not so easy for the in- structed," was the reply. "Who that has looked into the depths of life can rest and believe like the ignorant?" "Our fiiith," said the Jew, mournfully, " was a faith for all ; our most sacred truths was for the peasant as well as for the priest. Among us the seers revealed what they had seen, and the prophets be- lieved what they taught." The Druid listened long, with grave interest, as the Hebrew spoke of that God who was revealed to his people as at once so awful and so near, before whom the prophet said, "The holy hosts, above veil their faces," and yet their shepherd-king could say, "He is my shepherd." At length he said: "But since you had such revelations, and such a faith, and were a nation so honored by the highest, how can it bo that you ai'e a banished man like me? Did you not speak of the city of joxir people as laid waste, and their sanctuary as desecrated? What does this mean?" "I know not, or at least I can only partly conjecture," was the sad reply. "Our people had sinned, and our God is one who will not clear the guilty. Once before, our fathers were driven from their homes into that yet further East, whence first they came, and our holy and beautiful house was burned with fire. Yet then, in their exile, they had proph- ets and promises, and a limit fixed to their disgrace, at the end of which they were, indeed, restored. But now, alas! we have no prophets, nor an}^ one who can interpret. Scattered hither and thither, we lose the record of our line- age. Our glory is all in the past. In all the future I can see no vision of hope. It seems to me, sometimes, as if our na- tion had made shipwreck in the night, on some unknown sunken rock. Around us and before us is no shore, nor any light in view, save in that distant past to which the blazing ruins of our temple warn us we may not return." "Yet," resumed the Druid, "had it been otherwise with your nation, scarcely would your prosperity have brought hope to the world, to other races, or to mine. You say it was to your nation only God PLEASING AND COMFOETING LITEEATURE, 11 spoke ; to your nation alono those prom- ises were made, which, in some incom- prehensible way, you have lost. The world, then, has lost little in your fall." "I know not," replied the Jew. " Our prophets sjioke of the veil being rent from all people, and of all nations com- ing to the brightness of the rising of a King who was to reign over ours." "Did this King, then, never come?" "How can he have come?" said the Jew, with a strange impatience. "How should I then be here, an exile withoiit a country ? And was not our King to come as a conqueror and a Eedeemer for our nation, as a sun flashing his unques- tionable glory upon all nations? There is, indeed," he added, "a fanatical sect who sprang from our race, who assert that our King has come, and that it is for re- jecting him we are rejected. But who can believe this?" "It would be terrible, truly, for your people to believe it!" said the Druid. " Those among you who think thus might be a mourning and wretched company." "Nay," was the answer, "they are not. Their delusion leads them to profess themselves the most blessed of men. They think that he whom they call King and Lord, who, not much more than a hundred years ago, was ci'ucified by the Eomans in our city, has arisen from the dead, and lives in heaven, and they say they are glad to depart to him." "Their hope extends, then, beyond death," said the Druid, abstractedly. "There are, then, some who think they know of one who visited the 'Isle of the Brave,' and has come back to tell what he saw!" As they spoke, the dawn began to break over the green slopes of the shore on a promontory of which they sat. One by one the higher points of that magnificent series of rock bastions which guard our country from the Atlantic, like a fortress of God, caught the early sun- beam. Soon the ocean was also bathed in another ocean of light, broken only by the shadow of the cliffs, or by the countless purple cups of shade, which gave an individual existence to every one of those wonderful translucent greeii waves. The two priests of the two re- ligions moved slowly across the pass be- tween the rocks which separates the nat- ural castled bulwark, where they had passed the night, from the green slopes of the coast within. "See," exclaimed the Druid, "how the fire which, during the hours of darkness, was all our light, now lies a faint red stain on the daylight; Avhilc the Avaves, which all night roared around us like angry demons, quietly heave in the sun- shine. The earth has her dawns renewed continually. Will no new sun ever rise for man? Must the golden dawn for us be always in the past?" Too deep a shadow rested for the Jew on the glorious predictions of his proph- ets for him to give an answer, and si- lently they went along the clifTs. When they had Avalked inland thus for some time, they saw before them a la- borer, in an earth-stained and common dress, going to his work in one of the mines which of old had tempted the Phenicians to those very shores. This miner was evidently very young, and had the lithe grace of the south about his form and movements. As he walked he sang, and the tones of his rich south- ern tenor rose clear and full through the clear morning air. The cadence was different from any music the Druid had ever heard. There Avas a repose about the melody quite foreign to the wild wails or the war songs of his people. And, as they drew near, the language was to him as strange. They stepped on softly behind the singer, and listened. "Strange words to hear in sucli a place," murmured the Jew, at length. '•They are Greek — the language of a people who dwelt of old. and dwell still, in the East, near the home of my fore- fathers." They drew near and greeted the 12 SUNDAY BOOK OF stranger There was a gentle and easy courtesy in his manner as he returned their salutations, which, in a son of the North, would have betokened high breed- ing, but in him might be merely the natural bearing of his acute and versa- tile race. He willingly complied, Avhen the Jew asked him to repeat his song, which he translated thus to the Druid : Glory to God in the highest, And on Earth peace, Good will among men. We praise Thee, We bless Thee, We worship Thee For Thy great glory, O Lord, heavenly King. OGod the Father, rulingall; O Lord, the only-begotten Son, Savior, Messiah ; With the Holy Spirit, Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father, Who takest away the sins of the world, Receive our prayer. Thou who fittest at the right hand of the Father, Have mercy on lis, For Thou only art holy — Thou only art the Lord, Savior and Messiah— To the glory of God the Father. Amen. "Ask him if he has any other siich sacred songs," said the Druid; "the words sound to me beautiful and true, like an echo of half- forgotten music, heard long ago in some former life, from which per- chance my soul came unto this." " I will chant you our evening hymn," said the miner ; and he sang again : Joyful light of heavenly glory. Of the immortal heavenly Fatlier, The holy and the blessed Jesus Clirist ! We, coming at the setting of the sun, Seeing the evening light. Hymn the Father and the Son, And the Holy Spirit, God. Worthy art Thou at all times to be praised With holy voices. Son of God, Thou who givest light. Therefore, doth the world glorify Thee. "Wonderful words," said the Jew, after translating them. "They seem al- most like a response from heaven to what you said ; like the promise of the dawn for man for which you longed. Friend," lie said to the miner, "how camest thou hither ? Thy learning is above thy call- ing. "Not so," replied the other, meekly. "I was never other than a poor man. These truths are common to the most unlettered among us." "To whom does he allude by 'us?'" asked the Druid, when he understood. "We are the Christians, the men of Christ," said the stranger, i-eplying to the Druid in his own native Celtic lan- guage, although with a foreign accent. " I was a vine-dresser on the sunny hills near Smyrna. My father learned the faith from the Apostle John, the Be- loved; and I was exiled hither to work in the mines in the far West, because I could not deny my Lord." "Bitter change," said the Jew, "from those vine-clad southern hills to toil in the darkness on these cold northern shores." " Where I am going there will be no need of the sun," was the calm reply ; but the ominous hectic flush deepened on his hollow cheek. "How, then," said the Druid, " is your faith maintained in this life of exile and bondage? Here you can have no tem- ple and no priest." "We have a temple!" was the joyful rej^ly, "not made with hands; and a priest, though not now seen by mortal eyes." ' "He speaks in parables," said the Druid. " I speak no parables," said the Chris- tian, "but simply matters of fact, of which we are all assured." "Have you then also sacrifices?" asked the Druid. " We have a sacrifice," was the low and reverent reply; "one spotless and eternal, never more to be repeated. The Highest gave his Son. The Holy One yielded up himself. God has provided the Lainb. The Lamb of God and the Son of God are one." " He speaks of the promise made to our father Abraham," exclaimed the Jew. "Life for life," murmured the Druid; "life of man for life of man." "Nay, it was not man who made the sacrifice," said the Christian, "but God. Not the sinner's life w^as required; the Son yielded up his own." "You have, then, no sacrifices to offer now," said the Druid. "Not so," said the Christian, joyfully; "we have a daily, ceaseless sacrifice to oflfer — a living sacrifice, acceptable to God through Jesus Christ; even ourselves, to PLEASING AND COMFOETING LITERATURE. 13 do and suffer all the holy will of God — we ourselves, body, eoul, and spirit, to fulfill the will of Him who loved us and redeemed us with his precious blood of God." "But," resumed the Druid, "is that holy life, which you say was willingly yielded up for man, extinct forever? Shall the holy perish, and the guilty live?" "Nay," was the reply, in a tone of concentrated fervor, "that immortal life could not perish. The Son of God is risen from the dead, and dieth no more. And now," he continued, sj^eaking ea- gerly, as one Avho has good news to tell, "he sitteth enthroned at the right hand of God, the Sun of the City above." "Have you, then, also a sacred city?" said the Jew, in a tone of surprise." "It licth toward the sun-rising," re- plied the Christian, in the words of an early martj^r, "Jerusalem the heavenly, the city of the hol3\" "Your golden age, your holy city, are then in the future, not in the past?" said both. "You speak of an immortal life for each man," added the Druid; "but is there never to be a good time for man- kind?" " It is written that the King, the Christ, will come again in glory, to judge the wicked and to raise the just," was the reply; "and that then truth and right- eousness shall reign on earth ; for he is holy, and just, and true, and in Him all the nations of the earth shall be blessed." Often during the months that followed, the Hebrew and the Druid sought that lowly miner's hut. There Jew and Gen- tile learned together concerning Him who is the Hope of Israel and the De- sire of all nations. The blank wall of darkness, which, to the Jew, had seemed so strangely and abruptly to close the long path of pro- phetic light and promise, parted and dis- solved, displaying to his adoring gaze a sacrifice to whom all sacrifices pointed, the Priest in whom all priesthood is consummated, the King of whom Hebrew kings and prophets sang, in. whom all dominion centers. To the Druid, the dim desires of his heart were at once explained and ful- filled. Sin and falsehood were distovcred and brought to shame. "Life and im- mortality were brought to light." And on both gradually dawned, as the power and wisdom of God, not a doctrine merely, nor the ritual, but the Christ, the Son of the living God. Thus along on the rocky shores of the Atlantic rose, in threefold harmony, tho Christian hymns to Him who heareth always; the tSun whose presence is day to faith, the glory for which Israel waited, the Eedeemer for whom all nations blindly groped and longed, the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of tho world. There, also, erelong, in that lowly hut, those strangers watched, as brothers, by the death-bed of the Smyrniate exile, now one with them in Christ. And there, on that bleak shore, they buried him. m a quiet nook, consecrated by solitude, and thenceforth by the immortal seed of "the body that shall be." Paces have passed away since then, and civilizations; rituals and religious systems have grown up, run to seed, and perished ; but from those early ages to this, that new song of life and hope has never been entirely silenced on our British shores. CONSCIENCE. [Edward Tonns, born in liV' never tires of the Vicar of Wakefield, nor of the Desertid VillagK. The memory of poor Oliver is endeared to all, lor "o'eii his failings leaned to virtue's side." He was a mere child in all the business aflairs of life; but his heart was as big as a mountain. Among the amusing anecdotes, illus- trating his utter disregard of himself when his sympathies for the surtering werearoused, tliis is told : While a student, be failed one morning to fulfiU.an appointment to breaklast with a companion. The latter, thereupon, wnt to his room, and found (ioldsmith immersed to his chin in the feathers. It seems he had, the night before, m"t in the streets a poor woman, a stranger, with five small children, from the coun- try, without food and destitute, who implored his charitv. lie was poor and penniless liimself; but lie brought h'-r to the college gate, stripped his bed of its blankets and gavehi'r io Bhelter iuT little ones, and took o!f part of his clothes for her to sell and purchase food. Finding himself shivering in the night, he had cut open the tick and buried himself in the feathers; aud, destitute of clothes, ho could not luive his room.] Sweet Auburn! lovliest village of the plain, Where health and plenty cheered the laboring swain, Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed; Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please; IIow often have I loitered oer thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene! How often have I paused on every charm. The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm, Tiie never-failing brook, the busy mill, The decent church that topt the neigliboring hill; The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade. For talking age, and whispering lovers made! How often have I blest the coming day. When toil remitting lent its turit to play, And all the village train, from labor free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree! While many a pastime circled in the shade. The young contending, as the old surveyed; And many a gambol fi'olicked over tlie ground, And sleights of art, and feats of strength went round; And still, as each repeated pleasure tired, Succeeding sports the mirtliful band inspired. Tlie dancing pair that simply souglit renown, By holding out to tire eacli other down; The swain niistrnslless of his smutted face, While secret laughter tittered round the place; The bashful virgin's side-long looks of love; The matron's glance, that would those looks reprove ; These were thy charms, sweet village ! sports like these, With sweet succession taught e'en toil to please; These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed, These were thy charms — But all these charms are fled. Sweet smiling village, lovliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, aud all thy charms with- drawn; Amid thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen. And desolation saddens all thy green; One only master grasps the whole domain, And half a tillage stints the smiling plain ; No more thy glassy brook reflects the day. But choked with sedges works its weedy way; Along thy glades, a solitary guest. The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest; Amid thy desert walks the lapwing flies, And tires their echoes with unvaried cries; Sunk are thy b'owcrs, in shapeless ruin all. And the long grass o'ertops the moldering wall : And, trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, Far, far away thy children leave the land. » » a » * Sweet Auburn, parent of the blissful hour, Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant's power. Here as I take my solitary rounds, Amid thy tangled walks, and ruined grounds, And, many a vear relapsed, return to view AVhere once th'e cottage stood, the liawlhorn grew, Remembrance wakes with all her busy train. Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. In all my wanderings through this world of care, In all my griefs— and God has given my share— 16 SUNDAY BOOK OP I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amid these humble bowers to lay me down ; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose; I still had hopes, for pride attends lis still. Amid the swains to show my book-learned skill; Around my fire an evening group to draw, And tell of all I felt, and all I saw; And, as a hare when hounds and horns pursue, Pants to the place from whence at first she flew, I still had hopes, my long vexations past, Here to return— and die at home at last. vir vi;- -;■:- -;k v^ Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close. Up yonder hill the village murmur rose; There, as I passed with cai'eless steps and slow. The mingled notes came softened from below; The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung. The sober herd that lowed to meet their young. The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school, The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind. And the loud laugh that spake the vacant mind; These all in sweet confusion sought the shade. And filled each pause the nightingale had made. But now the sounds of population fail, No clieerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale. No busy steps the grass-grown footway tread, But all the blooming flush of life is fled; All but yon widowed, solitary thing. That feebly bends beside the plashy spring; She, Avretched matron, foi'ced, in age, for bread. To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread, To pick her Avintry faggot from the thorn, To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn; She only left of all the harmless train. The sad historian of the pensive plain. Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place dis- close, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was, to all the country dear. And passing lich with forty pounds a year, Remote from towns he ran liis godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place; Unskillful lie to fawn, or seek for power By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour; Far other aims his heart had learnt to prize, More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. His house was known to all the vagrant train, He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain; The long-remembered beggar was his guest, Whose beard descending swept his aged breast; The I'uined spendthrift, now no longer proud, Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed; The broken soldier, kindly bid to stay. Sat by his fire, and talked the night away; Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow. And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began. Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side; But in his duty prompt at every call. He watched and wept, he prayed and felt, for all. And, as a bird each fond endearment tries. To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies; He tried each art, reproved each dull delay. Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. Beside the bed where parting life was laid. And sorrow, guilt, and pains, by tui'ns dismayed, The reverend champion stood. At his control, Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul; Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise. And his last faltering accents whispered praise. At church with meek and unafi"ected grace. His looks adorned the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway. And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray. The service past, around the pious man. With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran; E'en children followed, with endearing wile, And plucked his gown, to share the good man'a smile. Wis ready smile a parent's warmth expressed; Their welfare pleased him, and their cares dis- tressed; To them his heart, his love, his griefs, were given. But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven: As some tall clift'that lifts its awful form. Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head. Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way. With blossomed furze unprofitably gay. There, in his noisy mansion skilled to rule, The village master taught his little school; A man severe he was, and stern to view, I knew him well, and every truant knew. Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace The day's disasters in his morning face: Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee, At all his jokes, for many a joke had he: Full well the busy whisper, circling round. Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned: Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, PLEASING AND COMFORTING LITERATURE. 17 The love he bore to learning was in fault: The village all declared how much he knew; 'Twas certain he could write and cipher too; Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, And e'en the story ran that he could gauge; In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill, For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still; While words of learned length, and thundering sound, Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around, And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew. That one small head should carry all he knew. But past is all his fame. The very spot Where many a time he triumphed, is forgot. Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head so high. Where once the signpost caught the passing eye. Low lies that house where nut-brown drauglits inspired, Where gray-beard mirth, and smiling toil, retired; Where village statesmen talked with looks pro- found, And news much older than their ale went round. Imagination fondly stoops to trace, The parlor-splendors of that festive place; The white-washed wall, the nicely sanded floor. The varnished clock that clicked beliind the door; The chest, contrived a double debt to pay, A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day ; The pictures placed for ornament and use. The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose; The hearth, except when winter cliilled the day, With aspen boughs, and flowers, and fennel gay, While broken tea-cups, wisely kept for show, Ranged o'er the chimney, glistened in a row. Good Heaven! what sorrows gloomed that parting day, That called them from their native walks away; When the poor exiles, every pleasure past, Hung round the bowers, and fondly looked their last, And took a long farewell, and wished in vain, For seats like these beyond the western main; And shuddering still to fice the distant deep, Returned and wept, and still return to weepl The good old sire, the first prepared to go, To new found worlds, and wept for others' woe; But for himself, in conscious virtue brave, He only wished for worlds beyond the grave. His lovely daughter, lovlier in lier tears. The fond companion of his lielpless years, Silent went next, neglectful of her charms, And left a lover's for a fither's arms. With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes. And blessed the cot where every pleasure rose; And kissed her thoughtless babes with many a tear, And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear; While hei- fond husband strove to lend relief, In all the aileut manliness of grief. * * 5:- S- * Even now the devastation is begun, And'haif the business of destruction done; Even now, methinks, as pondering here I s'and, I see the rural virtues leave tlie land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail. That idly waiting flaps with every gale. Downward they move, a melancholy band ! Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand. SWEETNESS OF NIGHT. [Nathaniel Cotton, an KticHsIi poet of the last centnrr, aiui trieiid of Cowper.J How sweet these sacred hours of rest, Fair portraits of the .virtuous breast. Where hiwless lust, and passion rude, And folly never dare intrude ! Be others' choice the sparkling bowl; And mirth, the poison of the soul ; Or midnight dance, and public shows, Parents oi' sickness, pains, and woes: A nobler joy my thoughts design; Instructive solitude be mine: Be mine that silent calm repast, A cheerful conscience to the last. UNIVERSAL PRAYEE. [Alexander Tope, boru in HVS.S; died in lT4-t.] Father of all ! in every age, In every clime adored. By saint, by savage, and by sago, Jehovah, Jove, or Lord ! Thou great First Cause, least understood, Who all my sense contined To know but this— that thou art good, And tluit myself am blind : Yet gave me, in this dark estate, To sec the good from ill ; And, binding nature fast in fixtc, Left free the human will. What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do. This, teach me more than IIolI to shun, That, more than Heaven pursue. 18 SUNDAY BOOK OF What blessings thy free bounty gives, Let me not east away ; For Grod is paid when man receives; To enjoy is to obey. Yet not to Earth's contracted span Thy goodness let me bound; Or think thee Lord alone of man, When thousand worlds are round. Let not this weak unknowing hand Presume thy bolts to throw, And deal damnation round the land / On each I judge thy foe. If I am right, thy grace impart, Still in the right to stay; If I am wrong, O ! teach my heart To find that better way ! Save me alike from foolish pride, And impious discontent At aught thy wisdom has denied, Or aught thy goodness lent. Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show. That mercy show to me. Mean though I am, not wholly so. Since quickened by thy breath : O lead me, whercso'er I go, Through this day's life or death ! This day be bread and peace my lot: k\\ else beneath the sun Thou know'st if best bestowed or not, And let thy will be done. To thee, whose temple is all space, Whose altar earth, sea, skies, One chorus let all beings raise! All nature's incense rise ! A THOUGHT ON ETERNITY. [John Gaj- ; born in 16SS; died in 17S2.] Ere the foundations of the world were laid, Ei-e kindling light the Almighty word obeyed, Tlioii wert; and when the subterraneous flame. Shall burst its prison, and devour this frame, From angry heaven when the keen lightning flies, When fervent heat dissolves the melting skies, Thou still shalt be; still as thou wert before. And know no change, when time shall be no more. THE DIVINE GOODNESS APPAEENT IN THE ADAPTATION OF THE EAETH TO MAN. OLIVER GOLDSMITH. The universe may be considered as the palace in which thft Deity resides, and the earth as one of its apartments. In this all the meaner races of animated nature mechanically obey him, and stand ready to execute his commands without hesitation. Man alone is found refrac- tory ; he is the only being endued with the power of contradicting these man- dates. The Deity was pleased to exert superior power in creating him a superior being — a being endued with a choice of good'and evil, and capable, in some meas- ure, of cooperating with his own inten- tions. Man, therefore, may be consid- ered as a limited creature, endued with powers imitative of those residing in the Deity. Ho is thrown into a world that standsinneedof his help; and hehas been granted a power of producing harmony from partial confusion. If, therefore, we consider tne earth as alloted for our habitation, we shall find that much has been given us to enjoy, and much to amend ; that we have ample reasons for gratitude, and many for our industry. In those great outlines of na- ture, to which art can not reach, and Avhereour greatest efforts must have been ineffectual, God himself has finished every thing with amazing grandeur and beauty. Our beneficent Father has con- sidered these parts of nature as peculiarly his own ; as parts which no creature could have skill or strength to amend ; and he has, therefore, made them incapable of alteration, or of more perfect regularity. The heavens and the firmament show the wisdom and glory of the workman. Astronomers, who are best skilled in the symmetry of systems, can find nothing PLEASING a:n'd comfokting liteeatuee. 19 there that they can alter for the better. God made these perfect, because no sub- ordinate being could correct their de- fects. When, therefore, we survey nature on this side, nothing can be more splendid, more correct, or amazing. We there be- hold a Deity residing in the midst of an universe, infinitely extended every way, animating all, and cheering the vacuity with his presence ! We behold an im- mense and shapeless mass of matter, formed into worlds by his power, and dis- persed at intervals, to which even the imagination can not travel ! In this great theater of his glory, a thousand suns, like our own, animate their respective sj'Stems, appearing and vanishing at di- vine command. Wg behold our own bright luminary, fixed in the center of its system, wheeling its planets in times proportioned to their distances, and at once dispensing light, heat, and action. The earth also is seen with its two-fold motion; producing, by the one, the change of seasons ; and, by the other, the grateful vicissitudes of day and night. AYith what silent magnificence is all this performed! with what seeming ease! The works of art are exerted with in- terrupted force ; and their nois}' progress discovers the obstructions the}'' receive ; but the earth, with a silent, steady rota- tion, successively presents every part of its bosom to the sun, at once imbibing nourishment and light from that parent of vegetation and fortilit3^ But not only provisions of heat and light are thus supplied, the whole sur- face of the earth is covered with a trans- parent atmosphere, that turns with its motion, and guards it from external in- jury. The rays of the sun are thus broken into a genial warmth ; and, while the surface is assisted, a gentle heat is produced in the bowels of the earth, which contributes to cover it with ver- dure. Waters also are supplied in hoalth- ful abundance, to support life, and assist vegetation. 3Iountains rise, to diversify | the prospect, and give a current to the stream. Seas extend from one continent to the other, replenished Avilh animals that may he turned to human support ; and also serving to enrich the earth with a sufficiency of vapor. Breezes fly along the surface of the fields, to promote health and vegetation. The coolness of the evening invites to rest; and the fresh- ness of the morning renews for labor. Such are the delights of the habitation that has been assigned to man; without any one of these, he must have been wretched ; and none of these could his own industry have supplied. But. while many of his wants are thus kindly fur- nished, on the one hand, there are num- berless inconveniences to excite his in- dustry, on the other. This habitation, though provided with all the conven- iences of air, pasturage, and water, is but a desert place without human cultiva- tion. The lowest animal finds more con- veniences in the wilds of nature than he who boasts himself their lord. The whirlwind, the inundation, and all tho asperities of the air, are peculiarly ter- rible to man, who knows their conse- quences, and, at a distance, dreads their approach. The earth itself, where hu- man art has not pervaded, puts on a frightful, gloomy appearance. The for- ests are dark and tangled ; the meadows are overgrown with rank weeds, and the brooks stray without a determined chan- nel. Nature, that has been kind to every lower order of beings, seems to have been neglectful with regard to him; to the savage uncontriving man, the earth is an abode of desolation, Avhore his shelter is insufficient, and his food preearious. A world, thus furnished with advan- tages on one side, and inconveniences on the other, is the proper abode of reason, and the fittest to exercise the industry of a free and a thinking creature. These evils, which art can remedy, and pre- science guard against, are a proper call for the exertion of his faculties ; and they tend still more to assimilate him to his 20 su:nday book of Creator. God beholds, with pleasure, that being which he has made, convert- ing the wretchedness of his natural sit- na^tion into a theater of triumph; bring- ing all the headlong tribes of nature into subjection to his will, and producing that order and uniformity upon earth, of which his own heavenly fabric is so bright an example. BEAUTIES FEOM WILLIS. \\ little boy of nine years of age, one day in early au- tumn, stood under tlie leufy shadows of tlie proudly -arcliiiig elms on tlie green at New Haven, watching a joyous group of students of Yale playing ball. One of them, whom lie Uien saw. for the first time, from his gracelul, aerial like beauty of person, so struck the child with a sense of admira- tion, that now, alter the lapse of forty years, it remains a pleasant vision in the memory of the man. The student was N. V. Willis, then a tall, slender, blue-eyed youth, with sunny flowing curls, mild and gentle expression, and a com- plexion soft and 3 773,f,0 S3jJ,3S0 3,566,4S0 APOCEYPHA. Chapters, 133' Verses, 6,ftSl Words, 152,135 Some brief notices of the translation of the Scrip*"i'es will be found interest- ing. The Old Testament "was fii'st trans- lated into Greek nearly three hundi'ed years before Christ. This version is called by scholars the Septuagint, fre- quently expressed in short thus, " LXX,'' from the number of sevent}-, or seventy- two Jewish elders, who were said to have been employed in this important work, to gratify Ptolemy Philadelphus, king of Egypt. The true reason of this trans- lation, according to the most learned men, was the dispersion of the Jews among the nations using the Greek lan- guage, by ihtercoLirse with whom they forgot their native tongue, and were un- able to read the Scriptures or understand them in the original Hebrew. The first complete translation of the Bible into English Avas made by John "Wickliffe, about the year 1380; and there exi.st several manuscript copies of his translation in public libraries. The translation of "William Tyndale was the first ever printed. He was obliged, how- ever, to withdraw to the continent to j)rosecute his work in security. His translation of the Xew Testament was published in 1526, at Antwerp or Ham- burg, and a few years later the whole of the Bible. Tyndale was apj^rchended as a heretic by Charles V, and was burnt to ashes near Antwerp, in 1536. "King James's Bible," our present authorized version, was made by forty-seven learned divines, and published in 1611. They were engaged upon it for three years. Every sentence, every word, every syl- lable, - every letter, and every point seemed to have been weighed with the nicest exactness. It is justly regarded by scholars as the most faithful transla- tion made into any modern language. Tyndale's translation of the New Tes- tament, especially, is considered admi- rable both for style and accuracy. To use the words of a profound modern scholar, " It is astonishing how little obsolete the language of it is, even at this day ; and, in point of perspicuity and noble simplicity, propriety of idiom, and purity of style, no English version has yet surpassed it.'' The following are Tyndale's translations of the Magnificat and Lord's Pra3'er, in the spelling of the original edition: '• And Mary saj^de, My soul magnifieth the Lorde, and my sprete reioyseth in God my Savioure. " For he hath loked on the povre de- gre of his honde maydcn. Beholde nowe from hens forthe shall all genera- cions call me blessed. " For he that is myghty hath done to m' ; greate thinges, and blessed ys his name : "And hys mercy is always on them that feare him thorow oute all generacions. "He hath shewed strengthe with his arme; he hath scattered them that are proude in the ymaginacion of their hertes. "He hath putt doune the myghty from their seates, and hath exalthed them of lowe decrre. " He hath filled the hungry with goode thinges, and hath sent away the r^'che empty. "He hath remembered mercy, and hath holpen his servaunt Israhel. "Even as he promised to oui-e fathers, Abraham and to his seed forever. " Oure father which arte in heven, halo wed be thy name. Let thy kingdom come. Thy wyll be fulfilled, as well in erth, as hit ys in heven. Geve^vs this daye oure dayly breade. And forgeve vs oure treaspases, even as we forgeve them which treaspas vs. Leede us not into temtacion, but delyvre vs from yvell. Amen." The first Bible translated in America was in the Indian language. Eev. John PLEASING AND COMFOETING LITEEATURE. 25 Eliot, the celebrated missionaiy to the Indians of Massachusetts, translated the whole of the Bible into the Nattick or Nipmuc dialect. It was printed at Cam- bridge in 1663, and is the tirst Bible printed on this continent. It is related that when he was engaged upon the work, he came to the following passages in Judges v, 28: "The mother of Sisera looked out at the window, and cried through the lattice,'" etc. He described to the Indians the meaning of lattice as a sort of frame- work or netting, and they gave him a word which he thought was what he wanted for his Bible. Some years afterward, when he had grown more familiar with their lans^uaffe, he burst into a laugh as he discovered what word he had used and printed, which the readei ~ill see at the end of this quo- tation : "Toe mother of Sisera looked out of the window, and cried through the eelpot." The following is a part of the Lord's Prayer in the Indian tongue from Eliot's Bible : Our Father hcavpn in liallowod thy n.imo ,Vh«/(»u kexngtU ; QutliaHutuiunnach Itowtsuviik ; come thy kinsdom thy will done Pi'yuumnutch liiil- hetin'oitaiitoonk : KuttcHaidaiitoonl: nen nacli Earth on ns n<'i\vcn in our food daily oUkt'il ui'aue L-csitkqitt K ittiotit^eit^uonijash asrkejytikoK'inh eivo ns tliis this day and for!;ivf> ns asimaiiueiin yeuyeii kesukod; kcih aliquouUimauiiean onr sins. HnninuUc)u'»c«H'jy Riiliard Kolli', a lirriiilt of till- cirilcr of Saint Ausn^linc, full five Imniin-d viars at'o. It is a curiosity as showini; the Knt:li
  • erty, plundi-ring him of his hooks, and destroying his rau^ manuscripts, that it broke down liis health and spirits, and is saiil to liave occasional hisdeatli. His b(pok of Divine Emblems, with their ijuaint and gri'tesiiue illustrations, fur a long time after, were found in the cottages of the peasants.] I LOVE (and have some cause to love) the earth ; 8he is my Maker's creature; therefore good: She is my mother, for she gave me birth; She is my tender nurse — she gives me food; But what's a creature, Lord, compared with thee? Or what's my mother, or my nurse to me? I love the air: her dainty sweets refresh ]\Iy drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me; Her shrill-mouthed quire sustains me with their flesh. And with their manj'-toncd notes delight me: But what's the air or all the sweets that she Can bless my soul withal, compared to thee? T love the sea : she is my fellow-creature, My careful purveyor; she provides me store; She walls me round; she makes my diet greater; She wafts my treasure from a foreign "hore: But, Lord of oceans, when compared with thee, What is the ocean, or her Wealth to me? To heaven's high city I direct my journey. Whose spangled suburbs entertaii* mine eye; Mine eye, by contemplation's great attorney. Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky: But what is heaven, great God, compared to thee? Without thy presence, heaven's no heaven to me. Without thy presence earth gives no refect io;#; Without thy presence sea affords no treasure; Without thy presence air's a rank infection; Without thy presence heaven itself no pleasure: If not possessed, if not enjoyed in thee, What's earth, or sea, or air, or heaven to me? 26 SUNDAY BOOK OF The highest honors that the woi'ld can boa-st, Are subjects far too low for my desire ; The brightest beams of glory are (at most) But dying sparkles of thy living fire: The loudest flames that earth can kindle, be But nightly glow-worms, if compared to thee. Without thy presance wealth is bags of cares; Wisdom but folly; joy disquiet — sadness; Friendship is treason, and delights are snares; Pleasures but pains, and mirth but pleasing madness; Without thee, Lord, things be not what they be. Nor have they being, when compared with thee. In having all things, and not thee, what have I? Not having thee, what have my labors got? Let me enjoy but thee, what further crave I? And having thee alone, what have I not? I wish nor sea nor land; nor would I be Possessed of heaven, heaven unpossessed of thee. THE EMPTINESS OF EICHES. Edward Young. Can gold calm passion, or make reason shine? Can we dig peace or wisdom from the mine? AVisdom to gold prefer, for 'tis much less To make our fortune than our happiness: That happiness which great ones often see, With rage and wonder, in a low degree. Themselves unblessed. The poor are only poor. But what are they who droop amid their store? Nothing is meaner than a wretch of state. The happy only are the truly great. Peasants enjoy like appetites with kings. And those best satisfied with cheapest things. THE NEW JERUSALEM, OB THE soul's breathing after THE HEAVENLY COCNTEY. [This grand old lijnin, liy an unknown author, has oxistod for centuries. " It has run^ in triunipliaiit notes tlirough tlio arclies of mighty cathedrals ; it has lieen chant<'