sulphurous mouth of Hell; it yawns not for thee-unless thou art resolved to leap into it, and dost resolutely refuse to let Jesus be thy Saviour! Are you willing to be saved-to give up all sin-to be delivered from it? Are you anxious to obtain mercy, and can you not believe that God is Love? O then, simply trust in Christ, and you shall not perish, but have everlasting life. 'Only believe, and yours is heaven!" 66 HOLINESS THE MEASURE OF POWER. AN individual professor takes his place in the church. He has wealth, and uses it for the benefit of the organization. He has talents, and they are generally devoted to the defence of the church. He has popular influence, and he uses it to gather proselytes to the faith. But his piety is superficial. Words escape him every day which show that they come from an impure fountain. He is, in spirit, a man of the world, and he has very little power to reform men. He may induce them to attend his church, and even to join it; but in all his efforts to reform them he feels that he is weak, and they turn away in disgust, or look to others for their models and advice. But let this same man improve in his piety, and his power to do good at once begins to increase. Let him approximate nearer and nearer the standard of Christian perfection, and it will be seen that his spiritual power increases in exact proportion. On the other hand, take a man whose heart is entirely consecrated; whose pure life indicates purity of heart, whose holy example commands universal respect, whose simple unpretending efforts move all who hear his voice in prayer, or praise, or exhortation. Now, let him yield to temptation, admit corruption into his heart, and how soon it is seen he is shorn of his strength. Just in proportion as he recedes from his elevated position in Christian holiness, his power of usefulness diminishes. Nor can he supply this deficiency by any other element. He who loses his purity may strive to save his power by increase of zeal, by enlarged charities, by the severest austerities; but it is all of no avail. He makes himself a living proof that holiness is the measure of power. A comparison of two men in the ministry will strengthen this conclusion. One is a man of shining talent, of gentle address, of popular eloquence; the other, ordinary in all these respects-in all natural qualities the inferior of his brother. But he is a man of God-a man of faith. His soul is filled with love"perfect love, that casteth out fear." He moves among the people like a spirit from eternity. His rebukes of sin fall with dreadful force upon the hearts of the wicked. His sermons, his prayers, his expostulations, his tears, all indicate the presence of an extraordinary power; and thousands are converted, sacrificed, and saved through his instrumentality. But the other man sees no such fruits of his labour. Souls may be converted, but he feels that it is in spite of QUESTIONS FOR EVERY He 1. HAVE I read a portion of God's Word to-day? and if I have, has it been hurriedly, and without meditation; or reverently, and with a sincere appreciation of its preciousness? 2. How have I prayed to-day? Has it been formally, without realizing thoughts of God; without sensible nearness to God; or with affection, fervour, and confident dependence on Christ's mediation? 3. Have I been sensible of any holy motion of God's Spirit in my soul? or have I encouraged or discouraged His gracious visits? 4. Have I longed after God, panted after His manifestations to my soul, and felt that in His favour and love alone could I be happy? 5. Have I studiously repressed evil thoughts, and desired to be delivered from their intrusion? and have I made any successful assaults on my easily besetting sins? 6. Have I been guilty to-day of envy, jealousy, pride, evil speaking, or unkind feelings? Have I returned good for evil? Has sin overcome me, or have I overcome sin ? 7. Have I realized my nearness to eternity, and encouraged myself to meditate on, and to seek preparation for death, judgment, and the coming of my Lord ? 8. Have I met crosses and disappointments, wrong, or slandering, with meekness and patience? 9. Have I been covetous? or have I resisted the tendency of my heart to avarice by the performance of benevolent and charitable deeds? Have I given anything to the poor, or purposed to do good unto all men as I have opportunity? 10. Have my secular avocations absorbed too much of my time and attention to-day? 11. Have I lived to God's glory, or for my own selfish ends to-day? 12. Is it a matter of consciousness with me that religion is my chief concern, and the source of my greatest pleasure? 13. Have I been gentle and courteous towards my inferiors and dependents, kindly affectioned towards my equals, and respectful towards my superiors? 14. Have I spoken unadvisedly with my tongue, or rashly judged others? 15. Has the world been in any way benefited by my living to-day? 16. Have I had opportunities for doing anything for Jesus? and have they been embraced? Have I spoken well of Him to any perishing sinner? Have I given away a religious tract, magazine, or book to any one, with prayer for the Spirit's blessing? 17. Have I prayed for the prosperity of the church and the conversion of sinners, and considered all I have as given me for the promotion of the Lord's kingdom among men? 18. Have I felt with increased intensity that I am a sinner, and that my only hope is in Christ? 19. Have I avoided all appearance of evil, and set a holy example before those with whom I have come in contact, fearing not men, but God? 20. In a word, have I made any advance in the divine life to-day? Ponder this, O my soul! as in the immediate presence of thy God. THE MIND OF JESUS. It is an affecting thing to see a great man in tears. "Jesus wept!" It was ever His delight to tread in the footsteps of sorrow-to heal the broken-hearted-turning aside from His own path of suffering to ". weep with those that weep." Bethany! That scene, that word, is a condensed volume of consolation for yearning and desolate hearts. What a majesty in those tears! He had just before been discoursing on Himself as the Resurrection and the Life-the next moment He is a weeping man by a human grave, melted in anguished sorrow at a bereaved one's side! Think of the funeral at the gate of Nain, reading its lesson to dejected myriads-"Let the widows trust in me!" Think of the farewell discourse to His disciples, when, muffling all His own foreseen and anticipated sorrows, He thought only of soothing and mitigating theirs! Think of the affecting pause in that silent procession to Calvary, when He turns round and stills the sobs of those who are tracking His steps with their weeping! Think of that wondrous epitome of human tenderness, just ere His eyes closed in their sleep of agony-in the mightiest crisis of all time--when filial love looked down on an anguished mother, and provided her a son and a home! Ah, was there ever sympathy like this! Son! Brother! Kinsman! Saviour! all [in one! The majesty of Godhead almost lost in the tenderness of the Friend. But so it was, and so it is. The heart of the now enthroned King beats responsive to the humblest of His sorrow-stricken people. "I am poor and needy, yet the Lord carries me on His heart!" Let us "go and do likewise." Let ns be ready, like our Lord, to follow the beck of misery,-" to deliver the needy when he crieth, the poor also, and him that hath no helper." Sympathy costs but little. Its recompence and return are great, in the priceless consolation it imparts. Few there are who undervalue it. Look at Paul-the weary, jaded prisoner, -chained to a soldier, -recently wrecked, about to stand before Cæsar. He reaches Appii Forum and the Three Taverns, dejected and de pressed. Brethren come from Rome, a distance of sixty miles, to offer their sympathy. The aged man is cheered! His spirit, like Jacob's, "revived!" "He thanked God, and took courage!" Reader! let "this mind," this holy Christ-like habit be in you, which was also in your adorable Master. Delight, when opportunity occurs, to frequent the house of mourning, to bind up the widow's heart, and to dry the orphan's tears. If you can do nothing else, you can whisper into the ear of disconsolate sorrow those majestic solaces which, rising first in the grave-yard of Bethany, have sent their undying echoes through the world, and stirred the depths of ten thousand hearts. "Exercise your souls," says Butler, "in a loving sympathy with sorrow in every form. Soothe it, minister to it, succour it, revere it. It is the relic of Christ in the world, an image of the Great Sufferer, a shadow of the cross. It is a holy and venerable thing." Jesus Himself "looked for some to take pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but He found none!" It shows how even He valued sympathy, and that, too, in its commonest form of "pity," though an ungrateful world denied it. plated marriage. But death was inexorable. The rich man died, and was buried with all due ceremony.No wonder, then, that the rich man of the parable-such a favourite of fortune, and, moreover, a son of Abraham-finding himself in hell, should lift up his eyes. 1. Once in hell, there is no escape. "Between us and you there is a great gulf fixed." 2. Heaven grants no requests from hell.-Yet it seemed but a small mat ter, a drop of water. Mercy," the rich man styled it; but knowing it were vain to solicit relief from God, he applies to Abraham. And what was the response? "Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented." Every word fell like a sentence of death. 3. No one in heaven can execute commissions from the dead to the living." They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them." How stern! Yes; 4. Sympathy with hell were treason against heaven.-" Nay, father Abraham;" will you not pity your own child? No; "If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead." Reader! if you die in your sins, though it were possible to petition a glorified father or mother, the reply would be, "Son, remember!" If you will not read your Bibles, go to Balaclava, and read the inscription on Sir Robert Newman's gravestone. Poor Sir Robert Newman was left wounded on the ground during the temporary retreat of his regiment, the Grenadier Guards; when they returned, he was found stabbed through the head and body in several places. I saw the rude tablet erected over his grave at Balaclava. These words are engraved on it:'And I say unto you, my friends, Be not afraid of them that kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do. But I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear fear Him which, after He hath killed, hath power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto you, fear Him." D. G., JUN. Cannock. THE CHRISTIAN'S DIGNITY. THERE died a few years ago an aged Christian who derived, in his later years, a precarious support as a hawker of tapes, laces, and other small wares, which he sold in the neighbourhood of one of our large inland towns. Partly paralyzed, and but indifferently clad, he passed along, an object to many of pity, to others, doubtless, of contempt. But, though poor, he might be described as "making many rich." Wise and deeply experienced in the things of God, he had a word in season for all whose path he crossed, if, indeed, "the poor man's wisdom" was not entirely despised by them. Christians of superior position in life often welcomed his society, to hear him speak, as few could have spoken, of the Saviour, and of "the hope that is laid up for us in heaven." Thus unknown, he was, to many of the excellent of the earth, "well known." One day this truly well-connected but humble pilgrim was moving toilsomely along the carriage-drive to a nobleman's seat, at which the servants had, in past times, shown him kindness, and purchased his wares. Midway he had the misfortune, as it seemed, to be met by the nobleman's carriage, bearing along the owner of the domain-a nobleman of the old school, but without its courtesy. In rough, blunt, swearing language, the nobleman demanded of our poor trembling friend "what business he had there?" With such calmness as he could command, the poor hawker told his tale. "His business was not with the nobleman, but with some of the servants who in times gone by had kindly bought of him." In coarser and more passionate language, the nobleman cursed him, and ordered him to be gone. This was too much to bear. It was now to be seen that meekness can rise into true heroism. Gathering up his strength, and looking steadfastly in the face of his reviler, the poor Christian said, "My lord, you don't know who you are talking to. You are talking, my lord, to a King's son; yes, to a son of the King of kings. What is more, my lord, I'm an heir of God, and a joint-heir with Jesus Christ." He paused. So, too, for a moment did the astonished peer. Never before had he heard a Christian assert his true dignity. Probably he felt how poor he himself was in comparison with the person who could thus speak. A few seconds sufficed, however, to recover him from his surprise, when, after throwing the poor man some silver from his carriage window, he bade his coachman drive on. |