• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 The pleasant way
 The great man in God's sight
 The lily's lessons
 The gift for God
 The wonderful lamp
 The child's fortune told
 The lessons Jesus teaches
 Benoni; or, thorns and roses
 The best merchandise
 The Bible
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: Rills from the fountain
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00003512/00001
 Material Information
Title: Rills from the fountain
Physical Description: 150 p., <1> leaf of plates : col. ill. ; 15 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Newton, Richard, 1813-1887
Knight and Son
Publisher: Knight and Son
Place of Publication: London
Publication Date: 1866
Copyright Date: 1866
 Subjects
Subject: Children's sermons   ( lcsh )
Gold stamped cloth (Binding) -- 1866   ( local )
Bldn -- 1866
Genre: Gold stamped cloth (Binding)   ( local )
non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
 Notes
General Note: Date from inscription.
Statement of Responsibility: by Richard Newton.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00003512
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: ltqf - AAA4837
notis - ALH5383
oclc - 48011403
alephbibnum - 002234944

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Frontispiece
        Frontispiece
    Title Page
        Title Page 1
        Title Page 2
    The pleasant way
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
    The great man in God's sight
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
    The lily's lessons
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
    The gift for God
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
    The wonderful lamp
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
    The child's fortune told
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
    The lessons Jesus teaches
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
    Benoni; or, thorns and roses
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
    The best merchandise
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
    The Bible
        Page 150
    Back Cover
        Page 151
        Page 152
    Spine
        Page 153
Full Text

















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FROM
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THE FOUNTAIN.




UT THU

REV. RICHARD NEWTON, D.D.




Ble'd be the Father a ln His l
To whoae celetlal nor we mwe
Rivers of endless Joy above, h
And rl of coma t kere below.




LONDON:
PUBLISHED BY KNIGHT AND SON,
CLRRKENWELL CLOSE.










9t Itaud on.



"Her way are ways of plematne and al her paths me
peaoe."--Pov. iii. 17.
THa Bible tells us of two great roads, or way,
in which the people of this world are walking.
One of these is the world's way, or the way of
sin; the other is Wisdom's way, or the way of
Religion. One of these is called the broad way,
and multitudes are always thronging it; the
other is called the narrow way, and but few are
found to travel it. In the language of the hymn-
"Broad i the road that leads to death,
And thousands walk together there;
But Wisdom shows a narrower pathI
With here and there a traveller."
Now, there are six things which help to make
a road pleasant to those who travel it, and all
these are found in Wisdom's ways.
The firt thing which makes a way pleasant is
to haov a SAFE GUIDE.
If you had to journey through a country in
which there were no roads laid down, it would
be very unpleasant; because you would never
be able to tell with any certainty, whether you
were going right or not. When ships are at




S THa PLEASANT WAT.
sea, they find no roads laid down over the broad
surface of its waters. There are no milestones
to mark the distance, and no finger-posts to
point out the way. But the sailor takes the
compass, with its little trembling needle always
pointing to the north, and this becomes his
guide. This enables him to tell which way to
go. This is just as good to him as roads and
fingerposts. The sailor's way at sea would be
a very unpleasant one, if he had no compass as
his guide. But the guidance which this gives
him does much to make his way a way of plea-
santness.
Near the city of Bome, in Italy, there is an
extensive burial-place, called the Catacombs. It
is all under ground, and reaches for miles in
different ways. The paths, among the tombs,
cross each other in every possible direction, so
that even in the broad light of day it would be
a perfect puzzle to find one's way through them.
But no ray of light reaches that gloomy place.
It is dark as midnight there. Of course, then,
you will easily understand that to enter the
Catacombs without a guide, is a very dangerous
thing. So many lives have been lost in conse-
quence, that the entrances have been closed up,
and no persons are now permitted to go in.
Before this was done, however, there was once
a young man who resolved to explore the Cata-
combs. lie furnished himself with a light, and
in order that he might not lose his way, he took
a ball of string, and fastening one end of it at
the entrance of the dark passage, he carried the
ball with him that he might guide his way out





THE PLEABANT WAY. 8
by it. Having thus furnished himself he went
in, and trod cautiously along, gazing in silence
on the different names and memorials inscribed
on the tombs in that dark city of the dead. He
spent some hours in this manner; and, dark and
dismal as the place was, his way was compara-
tively pleasant, because he had a guide. But
when he was turning to go back, his light went
out. And in the alarm which this threw him
into, he dropped his string, which was all he had
to depend on to lead him back to the outside
world of light and life. He stooped down at
once to pick up his guiding-string, but he could
not find it. He got down on his knees, and
felt carefully around in every direction for that
precious, precious thread, on which hung all his
hope of life and deliverance; but in vain. He
turned and groped, and groped and turned, till
weary with the effort; but to no purpose. Then
he began to despair. He felt that he was buried
alive. He thought of his home, of his friends,
and of the bright and beautiful world without,
and wept bitter tears of sorrow over his folly in
entering that gloomy abode. But he soon felt
that weeping would do him' no good. So he
resolved to make a desperate effort to escape,
before giving himself up to die. Then he began
in utter darkness to grope his way back. But
he had no guide; and, ah! he felt how dread-
fully unpleasant his way was made, simply by
his want of a guide. He walked on in darkness,
till compelled to stop and rest. Again he walked,
and n he rest. He continued his effort*
for hrt, that seemed like ages to him. But





4 TEH PLABANT WAY.
it was for life that he was struggling, and so he
toiled on, and on, and on, till at last his energies
were exhausted. He felt that it was of no use.
He thought that he must die; and, just as he
was sinking in utter despair to the earth, he
thought he saw a faint glimmer of light. This
revived his sinking heart. He struggled on a
little further; he turned a corner of the way;
and, oh! joy of joys to him, there was the broad
light of day! A merciful Providence had directed
his steps in the dark, and brought him out in
safety.
A safe guide is the first thing necessary to
make a way pleasant. In Religion's way we
have this. The Bible is our guide here. It is
a safe guide. It never leads us wrong. It shows
us the dangers in our path, and how we may
avoid them. It will go with us all through life,
and lead us to heaven at last. Religion's ways
are ways of pleasantness, because we have a
safe guide in these ways.
But the second thing which makes a way plea.
rant i GOOD COMPANY.
If you have a journey to take all alone, with
no one to talk to on the way, how long and
dreary that journey will seem! But if you have
two or three friends and companions with you,
whom you love very much, and they talk with
you as you travel on, telling you all about the
different houses you pass by, the names and
characters of the people who live in them, and
all about the different places that come in sight,
and the various things that have happened in
connexion with them, this will keep your mind




THE PLBA AT WAY. 5
fully occupied. You will not feel tired; the
time will pas without your knowing it, and the
way will seem very short and very pleamnt.
Now, those who walk in Wisdom's ways have
the very best company. All good Christians
are their fellow-travellers. You remember how
Moses spoke to his father-in-law, when he wanted
to persuade him to ,become an Israelite, and
serve God with him and his people. He said,
(Numb. x. 29,) "Come thou with us, and we
will do thee good; we are journeying unto the
place of which the Lord said, I will give it you."
And so, when we begin to serve God, we are
travelling to the land of promise, the heavenly
Canaan, the good land which God will give to
His people. And Wisdom's ways are the ways
in which we are to travel, to reach that land.
And all God's people are our fellow-travellers,
in trying to reach that happy land.
But we have better company than this, in
Wisdom's ways. The holy angels are the com-
panions of all who walk in these ways. St.
Paul says that the angels are all "ministering
spirits, sent forth to minister for them who
shall be heirs of salvation." This means all
true Christians,-all who love and serve God.
And David says, The angel of the Lord en-
campeth round about them that fear Him, and
delivereth them." Now, these angels are silent
companions: they are not allowed to speak to
us. They are invisible companions: we cannot
see them. But still, they are real companions
of allwho walk in Wisdom's ways. Thoh
silent*d invisible, they are active and u




6 THE PLEASANT WAY.
companions. God employs them to take car
of us, to protect us trom harm, and prevent
many evils that Satan, and his evil spirits, would
inflict upon us.
But we have better company even than this,
in Wisdom's ways. God Himself will be the
companion of all who walk in these ways.
Enoch walked in these ways before the flood;
and when the Bible tells us about him, it says,
"Enoch walked with God." And if Enoch
walked with God, then God must have walked
with Enoch. Jesus says, "If a man love me,
he will keep my words; and my Father will
love him, and we will come unto him, and make
our abode with him." And St. John says, Truly
our fellowship,"-and fellowship, you know, is
just the same as companionship,-" our fellow-
ship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus
Christ." Ah! this is good company indeed;
this is the very best company we can have.
Only think, my dear children, of having the
Lord Jesus Christ for companion! And though
He is invisible, like the angels, yet He is not
silent, too, like them. Oh, no; He speaks to
His people as He walks with them, and what
He says makes them very happy. As He was
walking with His disciples when on earth, and
talking with them on one occasion, their hearts
burned within them," and they were so happy
they hardly knew what to do. And just so He
talks with His people now. It is not, indeed,
by words, spoken to their outward ears, that
Jesus talks with His people now, but by thoughts
put into their minds by His Holy Spirit. In




'TH PIlUAANT WAY. 7

this way, He speaks to them of the precious
promises of His word; of what He has done,
and suffered for their salvation; and of the
glorious home which He has prepared for them
above. There is nothing in the world can make
us so happy as to have Jesus for our companion.
A good man, who loved Jesus very much, once
wrote a beautiful hymn about the happiness he
found in the companionship of Jesus; and in
that hymn he says-
"While bles'd with a sense of His love,
A palace a toy would appear;
And prisons would palaces prove,
If Jesu would dwell with me there."
The good company found in Wisdom's ways is
the second thing which makes them "ways of
pleasantness."
The third thing which makes a way pleasant is
SIRE PROTECTION.
If you were walking along a riad in which
steel-traps were hidden, and you wre in danger,
at every step, of being caught in them, there
would be no pleasantness in that way. The
danger would take away all pleasure. You
remember our Saviour told a story once about a
man who went down from Jerusalem to Jericho,
and fell among thieves, who robbed, and stripped,
ahd wounded him, and left him half dead. The
road from Jerusalem to Jericho was a very
dangerous road then. It was a narrow road,
that ran winding round between high mountains.
There were dark caverns in the sides of the
mountains. These caverns were infested with
robbers, who watched for the passing travelleM,




8 THI PLKASANT WAT.
and sprang out to rob and murder them. That
road is just as dangerous now, as it was then.
o8 many murders have been committed there,
that it is called the bloody way." There would
be no pleasantness in travelling that way. There
would be no safety even, unless you had a com-
pany of armed men to protect you. Protection,
in travelling, is necessary, if we would have
pleasure in it.
Now, the way of life through which we are
travelling, is a way full of dangers. Like the
road from Jerusalem to Jericho, it is beset with
robbers. Satan, with his evil spirits, is there,
like the captain of a band of robbers. His object
is to rob our souls of all right feelings and
principles, and dra us down to his own dark
den for ever. He is the worst robber that ever
was. There is nothing we should dread so
much as falling into his hands, and being left
there. Yet this must happen to all, who do
not walk in Wisdom's ways. We cannot pro-
tect ourselves against this robber. Our best
friends and dearest relations cannot protect us.
Jesus alone can afford us protection here. We
cannot see Satan, but He can. We know not
where he lays his traps and snares for us, but
Jesus knows. And he can turn away our feet,
and keep us from falling into those snares. He
said to Abraham once, when he was in danger,
"Fear not, Abraham; I am thy shield." Abra-
ham was travelling the same road of life that
we are travelling. He was exposed to the same
dangers from Satan's power and malice that we
are exposed to. Protection from these dangers





THI PLABANT WAY. 9
was necessary for him, in order that he might
find pleasantness in that way. And Jesus pro-
mised to be his shield, and assured him of this
protection. And this promise belongs to you
and me, if we walk in Wisdom's ways, as much
as it did to Abraham. Jesus will give us sure
protection from Satan, the great robber of souls.
Do you ask, How will Jesus protect us ? Let
me tell you. In the sixth chapter of the second
book of Kings, we find a very interesting story
of the prophet Elisha. He was living in a little
village on a mountain in Israel. The king of
Syria was at war with the king of Israel at that
time. And whenever the Syrian king held a
secret council with the captains of his army,
and laid a plan for making a sudden attack upon
the Israelites, Elisha knew it by the spirit of
prophecy, and sent word to the king of Israel,
who went there with his army, and prevented
the attack of the Syrians. This made the king
of Syria very angry; and he sent an army of
soldiers to take the prophet prisoner, and put
him to death. This army came by night, and,
finding out the place of Elisha's abode, they
quite surrounded the mountain, and filled the
lower part of it with their numbers. When the
prophet's servant arose in the morning, and saw
how they were surrounded by the horses and
chariots of their enemies, he was greatly afraid,
and cried out, "Alas! my master, what shall we
do?" But Elisha felt no fear. He knew very
well what safe protection they had, and he
wanted his servant to know it too. Then he
prayed that God would give his servant power





10 :TH pZIu.aS WAY.

to see what he saw; and God opened his eyes
to see spiritual beings; and, oh! what a sight
did he behold! how it must have amazed him I
He saw the mountain full of horses and chariots
of fire round his master and himself. These
were angels, that God had sent to take care of
them. What harm could the Syrians do them,
while they had such a guard? None at all.
No wonder, then, that Elisha was not hurt, but
was saved in the singular way described in the
chapter which tells this interesting story. This
shows us what a wonderful shield God is to His
people, and how He can protect them from
Satan and his hosts, just as easily as He protected
Elisha from the army of the Syrians. Here we
see how true the language of that hymn is,
which says-
"That man no guard nor weapon needs,
Whose heart the blood of Jesus knows;
But safe may pass, when duty leads,
Through burning sands or mountain-mows.
"Beleased from guilt, he feels no fear,
Redemption is his shield and tower;
He ses his Saviour always near
To help in every trying hour.
Hi love posaesing, I am bles'd;
Secure, whatever change may come;
Whether I go to east or weat,
With Him I still shall be at home."
Yes, yes, dear children, there is sure protection
to those who walk in Wisdom's ways; and this
makes up part of the pleasantness which is found
in those ways.
But there is a fourth thing which tends to
make travelling pleasant in any wy; and that i',
to have Raop a PaovisIOH Madefor our wants.




TRW PLIIASANT WAY. 11
Every person who has ever had to travel all
day, and carry a burden, will understand what
a very pleasant thing it is to get to a good
stopping-place at night. To be able to set down
your burden, and wash away the dust and soil
of a weary journey; and then to have a good
substantial supper provided, and, after satisfy-
ing your hunger, to have a nice, clean, comfort-
able bed to rest in,-these are the things which
travellers want; and it is having proper proviuio
made to supply these wants which imparts plea-
santness to their ways. Where this provision
has not been made, or cannot be obtained, there
can be no pleasure in travelling. We often
hear of sailors, far off at sea, who run short of
food and water. Their provisions fail; they
have nothing to eat or drink, and it is imposs-
ble for them to get any. Ah! there is very
little pleasantness in the sailor's way then.
Starvation and suffering stare him in the face,
but he cannot help himself.
And travellers on land, as well as on the sea,
at times, find provisions fail them, and then
what terrible unpleasantness is felt in their ways I
Some time ago, a company was fitted out from a
United States' naval vessel, under the command
of Lieutenant Strain, to explore the Isthmus of
Darien, and see if it would be possible to make
a canal across it, so that vessels might get from
the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean without having
to go all the way round South America and
Cape Horn. They expected to get through,
nd be back again, in a few day; and only took
provisions with them accordingly. But they





12 Tll PLIABANT WAT.
found the distance many times greater than it
had been represented to them. They had to
make their toilsome way through a trackless,
tangled wilderness. It took them about as
many weeks as they expected to be days. Their
provisions entirely failed. They would toil all
day on their painful journey, and then have
nothing to eat at night but such roots, or berries,
or nuts, as they might gather on their way.
Their way was a way of unpleasantness, because
they had no proper provision for their wants.
Some of them died of starvation, and they were
all wasted away to mere skeletons before they
got through. The officers and men engaged in
that expedition displayed a degree of brave
endurance, and nobleness of character, which
was perhaps never exceeded, and which reflects
the highest honour on themselves, and on their
country. And they would understand, much
better than we can, how greatly the pleasantness
of travellers' ways depends on having a proper
provision for their wants.
But those who walk in Wisdom's ways have
a provision for their wants that never fails.
The Bible says to them, God shall supply all
your need, according to the riches of His glory
by Christ Jesus." God's sabbaths are the resting.
days which He has appointed for the refresh-
ment of those who are travelling in Wisdom's
ways. The church is like an inn, which He has
fitted up, and furnished for their comfort. Here
a constant feast is prepared for them. Here is
the bread which came down from heaven, and of
which whosoever eateth shall live for ever. Here


4ha-- --




THR PLBA5&JT WAT. 18
are the wells of salvation, from which His people
draw water with greatjoy. It is living water
which these wells yield. Those who drink of
this water never thirst again, but they carry it
with them,-" a well of water, springing up mto
everlasting life." When Davidwas walking in
these ways, he said," The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down
in green pastures ; He leadeth me beside the still
waters." In another place, he says, They that
wait upon the Lord "-and this means those who
walk m Wisdom's ways-shall want no manner
of thing that is good. Truly, there is a proper
provision for them, and this makes the ways in
which they are walking "ways of pleasantness."
But there is a fifl thing which helps to make
a way pleasant, and that is a PLEASANT PROSPECT.
Everybody, I suppose, has heard of the great
desert of Sahara in Africa. It reaches for
hundreds of miles, in every direction, like a vast
ocean of sand. There are no roads, no shady
resting-places, or cool fountains there. No tall
dark mountains there lift up their huge forms
to view. No fields of grain, no valleys thick
with corn, no murmuring brooks, no flowery
gardens, no beautiful groves, are there. Go
where you will, turn where you may, wide wastes
of barren, burning sands are all the eye can rest
upon. Suppose we had to travel, day after day,
over those dreary, desert sands,-would there be
much pleasantness in our way? No, indeed.
The want of a pleasant prospect would make it
as uncomfortable as it well could be. We should
be all the time thinking about some of tho




14 r~m PLaAStwI WAY.
beautiful roads we had travelled in our own
country; and the remembrance of them would
make the desert seem gloomier still by contrast.
Switzerland, you know, is a country famous, all
over the world, for its beautiful scenery. Hun-
dreds and thousands of people go there every
year, just for the purpose of admiring its beau-
ties. And those who travel through that coun-
try, find their ways made ways of pleasantness,
simply by thepleasantpro"pects which are before
them there. They see mountains whose tops
are covered with snow. Sometimes the clouds
father round them; and then, again, the sun-
beams are reflected from them in all the varying
colours of the rainbow. Other mountains are
seen clothed with dark green wood, and streams
of water are gushing down their sides like
threads of silver, and wild torrents dash them-
selves into foam and spray. The prospect varies,
and changes continually, and affords unceasing
pleasantness to those whose ways lead them
through that land of beauty.
But now you may be ready to ask, What sort
of prospects are afforded to those who walk in
Wisdom's ways P Oh, here are pleasant pros-
pects indeed Nothing in all the world can be
compared to these for interest and beauty.
Prospects of heaven are to be seen from these
ways. Did you ever read Bunyan's Pilgrim's
Progress P Next to the Bible, it is one of the
beet books in the world. Everybody ought to
read it. It represents the Christian, m one
part of his journey, as reaching an elevated
region called "the Delectable Mountains," sd





Tnw PLUAIIAJ WAT. 15

looking through a telescope, and getting a view
of heaven. Now, there are many of these
mountains in Wisdom's ways, and heaven can
be clearly seen from the top of them. The
promises which God has written in the Bible, are
what I mean by these mountains.
The writer of that sweet hymn, which we some.
times sing, had been looking at these prospects,
or meditating on the promises of God's word,
when he wrote,-
"There is a land of pure delight,
Where uints immortal rein ;
Infinite day ezelude the night,
And pleasure banish pain.
"There everlasting spring abidee,
And never-withering powers:
Death, like a narrow ea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.
"Sweet fields, beyond the swelling dood,
Stand dressed in living green;
So to the Jews, old Canaan stood,
While Jordan rolled between "
And these pleasant prospect, found in Wisdom's
was, make them ways of pleasantness.
here is only one other thing I would fPdk
of, a making a way pleasant; and that u, to
have A COMFOBTABLI END iS V010.
When we are taking a journey, the question,
"Where are we going P must have a great
effect upon our feelings. Every boy, or girl,
who has had to go from home to boarding-school,
will understand all about this. You remember
how different your feelings were, when you wee
going away from home, from what they were
when you were returning home. Yet it was the





16 THU PLA.BANT WAY.
same way that you travelled in both cases.
The chief thing which made the difference, was
the end you had in view. On first taking that
journey, you knew that the end of it was a
school among strangers. You were going to
mingle with persons whom you had never seen
or known before. You were going to engge in
duties that were new and trying. The end m view
made your way unpleasant. But how different
it was when vacation-time came, and you were
leaving school! The road you had to travel was
the same, but the end in view was different, and
what a change that made in your feelings!
Instead of school, with its strange faces and hard
duties, you had now nothing to think of but
your dear, sweet, happy home, with the looks of
love, and smiles of affection, and all the fond
familiar objects which you knew were awaiting
you there. And the thought of these thing--
the comfortable end you had in view-made your
way home a way of unmingled pleasantness.
And it is just the same m any other journey.
Here, for example, is a stage-coach just starting
on a journey of a hundred miles. Among the
passengers are two young men. They are both
going to the same place. They are going by the
same road; they are in the same conveyance,
sitting on the same seat; they breathe the same
air; they look out on the same beautiful scenery;
and yet, while one of them talks, and smiles, and
looks bright and happy as a summer morning, the
other looks very different. He speaks to no one.
He never smiles. He takes no notice of the
beautiful country; but, with downcast eye, and





THI PLEASANT WAT. 17

melancholy looks, he seems like the image of
morrow and despair. The way they are travel-
ling is a way of pleasantness to one of these
young men, but a way of gloom and sadness to
the other. And what makes the difference P
It is the end they have in view. One of them
has been travelling in Europe for several years,
and is now returning to the home of his child-
hood. His family and friends are all eagerly ex-
pecting him, and ready,with open arms, and warm
affectionate hearts, to welcome him back again.
His heart is fairly dancing within him, for
he has a comfortable end m view, and that
makes his way all pleasantness. But the other,
-poor fellow!-he has committed a forgery.
His crime has been found out. He has been
taken up, and is now on his way to be tried,
condemned, and punished. The grief and sorrow
of his family and friends, and a prison with its
deep and enduring disgrace,-this is the end
before him: and can you wonder that it makes
his way a way of unpleasantness ?
And the end we have in view, in the great
journey of life, has just the same effect upon our
feelings. Those who are walking in Wisdom's
ways, have avery comfortable end in view. They
have a glorious home in heaven to look forward
to. 2hre, in the company of all good people, with
the holy angels, and God their ather, and
Jesus their blessed Saviour, they shall dwell for
ever in unspeakable happiness. Oh, this is a
comfortable end to have m view I Thiscannot
fail to make the ways of Wisdom pleasatnes
to those who walk in them. And when you





18 THI PLASAIT WAT.
think of these six things-the afe guide, the
good company, the sure protection, the proper
provision, th pleasant prospect, and the comfort-
able end-which are found in Wisdom's ways,
you cannot wonder to hear it said that "her
ways are ways of pleasantness."
And now I think I hear some of you asking,
How can we get into these ways, and walk in
them ? Let me tell you in a few closing words.
When Jesus was on earth, He said, "I an the
way." At another time He said, "I am the
door; by me, if any man enter in, he shall be
saved." Now, we learn from these words that
Wisdom's ways are all in Jesus; and the door
of entrance into these ways is found in Jesus.
If any one feels that he is a sinner, and wants
to get his sins pardoned, he must go and pray
to God to pardon his sins for Jesus' sake. If
any one feels that his heart is wicked, and he
cannot make it better, he must go and pray to
God for Jesus' sake to change his wicked heart,
and take away all his wrong feelings, and make
him like Jesus. We must read the Bible to
find out what Jesus did, and what He has told
us to do, and then pray to God to give us grace
to do these things; and then we shall be walk.
ing in Wisdom's ways, and shall know for our-
selves how pleasant those ways are.
May God guide us all in these pleasant ways,
and bring us to His heavenly home at last, for
Jesus' sake Amen.
*










t rtat Vjan in foWs Sig9t.


"He shall be great in the eight of the Lord."--Luz i. 15.
Ir you had never heard these words before, my
dear children, I suppose you would be ready, as
soon as you heard them, to ask, "Who can this
be ? Does this refer to some mighty king or
conqueror ? Is it David, who killed the giant?
or Daniel, who was thrown into the lion's den?
Or is it some great soldier, like Alexander, or
Julius Casar, or Napoleon, that is intended?"
No; it is none of these. It is nobody like
them, that is spoken of here. Our text refers
to John the Baptist. And who was John the
Baptist? He was the son of a poor priest.
Ile was very poor himself. He was born in a
little village among the hills of Judea. He
lived in the wilderness, and was never heard of,
out of his own family, till he grew to be thirty
years old. Then he began to preach in the neigh-
bourhood of Jerusalem. He continued his
labours, as a preacher, for about twelve months.
One day he told some truths which offended
Herod, the king of Judea. Herod became very
angry with him, and put him in prison. There
he was kept for a while, and then he was be-




f
20 TrI uG T MANi
headed. This was the history of John the
Baptist. And yet, before his birth, the angel
Gabriel was sent from heaven to tell the father
of John, that he was to be a great man in the
eight of God. Perhaps some of you are ready
to say, "Why, this seems very strange; we
don't see anything so very great in the life of
John the Baptist." I dare say a good many
people have thought so. But we must bear in
mind that there are two kinds of great men.
Some are great in the sight of men, and others
are great in the sight of God. There is a
wonderful difference between these two kinds of
greatness. Now, let us consider three questions.
The first is:-Wat makes people great in the
sight of men ?
The second is:-What makes people great is
the eight of God?
And the third i:-Why is it better to be great
is God's sight, than in man's right ?
Our first question is:-What makes people
great in the eight of men ? Several things do
this; but birth, and money, and talents, are the
chief things which give this kind of greatness.
Some people are considered great, simply on
account of their birth. They happened to be
born of parents who occupy a distinguished place
in society. We all heard a great deal of talk
about the son that was born to Louis Napoleon,
the Emperor of France. For a long time, the
newspapers were filled with accounts of the
wonderful preparations that were made to cele.
brate his birth. He was to be called the King
of Algiers. He was to be rocked in a silver





IN eoD'S ,'no n1

cradle. When he was born, guns were fired,
bonfires were kindled, illuminations were held,
bells were rung, flags were waved, and all Paris,
if not all France, was in a perfect tumult of
excitement. One might have supposed that this
unconscious baby was really the greatest person
ever born into this world. And yet there was
nothing but his birth to make him great. No
doubt many a baby was born that same day, in
humble life, perhaps in some garret or but, that
will really be a great deal more useful to the
world than that emperor's son. Greatness, in
the sight of men, belongs to that child of a
palace; hut it is greatness which owes its exist-
ence to nothing but his birth.
Money is another thing, on account of which
persons are sometimes considered great in the
sightofmen. Stephen Girard was the richest man
in Philadelphia. He was the richest man in
America. He was one of the richest men in the
world. He died without leaving any children.
But suppose that Stephen Girard had had one
only son. And suppose that, instead of leaving his
property to the city of Philadelphia, he had left
it all to this son. Fifteen millions of dollars-
(more than three million guineas)-to one man;
what a rich man he would have b in! How
much attention would have been paid to him!
How much he would have been honoured, and
sought after I He might have been an ignorant,
stupid, bad man, and yet many persons would
have considered him a great man, simply on
account of his money. It is a poor, mean, con-
temptible thing, when a person's greatneW grows





at TEN UAIT mAN
out of his gold. Yet it often doe so. Plenty
of money is often enough to cause people to be
considered great in the sight of men.
But there is another thing on which this kind
of greatness rests the moat frequently of all,
and that is talent. By this is meant smartesM,
or power of mind to do things that other people
cannot do, or else to do them better than others
can. Here are two little boys, John and William.
They both go to the same school, at the same
time, and they are both put into the A B C class.
John learns the alphabet in three lessons; but
William has to go over his, again and again, day
after day, and week after week, for three months,
before he knows it. We should say that John
had a talent for learning, while William had not.
Now, this talent, or power of mind to do things,
assumes many different forms, and shows itself
in many different ways. Sometimes a man's
talent will show itself in a remarkable power to
learn languages, as in the case of Bir William
Jones. This man learned to read and write
twenty-eight different languages. He became
one of the most learned men of the age in which
he lived. His talents made him a great man in
the sight o(men. And so it was with Dr. Carey,
the Bapdtmissionary to India. When a young
man, he was a shoemaker. But his heart was
full of the love of God, and he resolved to give
himself up to the work of preaching the gospel
to the heathen. Some people ridiculed the idea
of his becoming a minister. They made sport of
him, and called him "the consecrated cobbler."
But he paid no attention to their mockery. He




IN eoe's e1eOT. X
gave himself up to the work he had chosen.
He had a remarkable talent for learning lan-
guages, and he lived to translate the Scriptures
into the language of many of the Eastern nations,
and thus became the means, as it were, of open-
ing the kingdom of heaven to thousands and
thousands of people, who would never have heard
of Jesus and His salvation, but for him.
Sometimes a man's talents will lie in a power
for painting, a was the case with Benjamin
West, the son of a plain Pennsylvanian farmer,
who became one of the most celebrated painters
in the world. Sometimes it will show itself in
a power for writing beautiful poetry, as was the
case with John Milton, and Alexander Pope,
who acquired a greatness, in the sight of men,
that will last as long as the English language
continues to be read in the world. Sometimes it
will show itself in a power to find out curious
things about the stars and other heavenly bodies,
as in the case of Sir Isaac Newton, who saw an
apple fall from a tree one day, and set to study-
ing about it, and found out from it how it is
that the stars move so regularly, and a great
many other wonderful things which nobody else
had ever known before, since the wpld was
made. Sometimes this talent will itself
in a power to make curious machinery, a in the
case of James Watt, who made the firt steam.
engine, or of Robert Fulton, who made the flrs
steamboat. These perons will always be con-
sidered great, in the sight of men, on account of
their talents. And sometimes, though wm7
rarely, a man's talent will show itself in a power





34 cm GUaiT MA
to do anything better than other people an do
it. This was the cae with the great Washing-
ton. He had a great talent for everything he
was called upon to do. He had great talent as
a soldier, and great talent as a statesman, and
great talent as a farmer, and, better than all
besides, he had great talent as a good citizen and
a good man. He was great in the sight of men,
and great in the sight of God too.
And now we come to our second question,
which is this:- What is it which makes people
great, in the sight of God? It is not any of the
things which lead to greatness in men's sight.
A person may be born of the greatest king that
ever lived, and be as rich as Girard was, and
have the talents of all the different great men
that I have mentioned, and yet never be great at
all in the sight of God. And then, on the other
hand, a person may be born in a garret or a
cellar, and never have any money to call his own,
and no talent at all to do anything that men call
great, and yet may be really great in the sight
of the Lord. This was very much the case with
John the Baptist. He had neither birth, nor
money, nor talents, to make him what men would
call great; yet God called him a great man.
What made him great? And what will make
others as great as he was? Now, all that need
be said in answer to this question, is included in
a single word. What an important word it is,
which leads to such an important result! This
word is OBEDIIONC. It was simply his obedience
which led to all John's greatness. He didjust
what God wanted him to do. He did nothing




IV eoo'I aCr 26
else; and he did this always. God wanted John
to stay in the wilderness till he was thirty year
old; and he stayed there. God wanted him to
preach repentance; and he did it. God wanted
him to tell Herod of his sins; though John
knew that Herod was a wicked man, and that
he would get very angry with him, yet he went
right on, and did it. Iterod put him in prison,
and killed him for it; yet John was great in the
sight of the Lord. It was for his obedience
that he was counted great.
And if we obey God, as John did, it will make
us great in His ight too. Jesus said to His
discples, Ye are my fri'd, if ye do whatso-
ever I command you;" that is, if ye obey me.
But Jesus is the Almighty God. He rules
and governs more than ten thousand times ten
thousand worlds. All the angels of heaven
worship Him. It is His smile which makes the
happiness of heaven. Jesau is o very great
Himself, that it must make anybody great who i
permitted to become His friend. You know,
my dear children, how often, when evening
comes, the setting sun will shine upon the
clouds that are floating in the western sky, and
make them look so bright and beautiful, that
you stand and gaze upon them, and feel as if
rou never should be tired of looking at them.
Before the sun shines on them, those clouds
ook so dark and black, that you have no pleasure
seeing them. They owe all their brghtness
glory to the sun. And yet the glory which
sun gives them, is only in appearance, not in
Now, if the sun had the power of





so TED B02"T MA"
making all the clouds he shines on, really e what
they see to be,-if he could actually turn them
,into glorious, glittering gold,-he would then be
doing for the clouds, just what Jesus does for
all who obey Him, and become His friends. He
sheds His glory upon them, and makes them
like Himself. He not only makes them look
great and glorious, but he makes them really be
so. When David was thinking about all God's
goodness to him, he said, "Thy gentleness has
made megreat." All the greatness which people
get in men's sight is little and empty; but it
is vast, wonderful, substantial greatness which
those get, who become great m the sight of
God. And this is what we have Sunday-schools
and places of worship for. This is the end of
all our teaching and preaching. The object we
have in view in it all, is to persuade you to love
and serve Jesus. It is to induce you to become
the friends of Jesus. And if you do this, you
will become truly great. This will make you,
like John the Baptist,-" great in the sight of
the Lord." And this is a great deal better than
being great in the sight of men.
And now we come to our third and last question,
which is:-Why is it better to be great in the
sight of the Lord than in the ight of uen ?
We may answer this question by saying that
it is so for three reasons. Greatness in God's
sight is better than greatness in man's sight,
because it is more useful. Great men in God's
sight are more useful than others, by their
easssple. The most useful thing that can be
done to anybody is to make him a Chrirtin.





GOID's u9ei1. Vf
And whatever is the best help towards making
any one a Christian, that is the most useful
thing to him. But there is nothing like the
influence of a Christian's example to help to
make others Christians. And in this way, a
real Christian is always doing good to those
about him. A man may be born of a prince,
and be very rich, and very talented; yet there is
nothing in any of these things to make his
example useful, in the way of which we are now
speaking. But when any one is great in the
sght of God, as John was, by obedience to His
will, he is always exerting an influence, which
tends to make others obey God too; and thus,
such a person is more useful by his example,
than those who are great in the sight of men.
And then by his prayes, as well as by his ex-
ample, such a person is more useful. Suppose a
eat king had a treasure-house, filled with all
nds of good things; and suppose he should
give the key of this treasure-house to one of his
rvants, and should tell him that he might open
t whenever he pleased, and take out anything
hat was necessary for his own happiness, or
hat of his friends. What a privilege this would
e! How much good this person might do!
ow very useful he might make himself This
Just what God does to His people. He has a
easury in heaven, which contains everything
necessary to our happiness. Prayer is the key
at unlocks this treasury. God puts this key
to the hands of His people, and allows them to
it for themselves or others, as there may be
ion. As the hymn says,-





8g w" OUAlt XUL
"Prayemw abk the dared eloud withdraw;
Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob Mw;
Gives exercise to faith and love;
Brins every bleming from abore"
The prayer of Abraham would have saved Sodom
and Gomorrah, from being burned up, if ten
good people had been found there. The prayer
of Moses saved the whole nation of Israel from
destruction. The prayer of Elijah brought rain
on the land, when there had been none for
three years and six months. And a great many
such instances may be found in the Bible.
Every Christian loves to pray, and, by his
prayers, he will be more useful than those can
ever be who have not learned to pray.
And then, those who love and serve God, and
are great in His sight, are more useful than
others by their eforte, as well as by their
example and prayers. You remember, my dear
children, when Jesus was on earth, as soon as
He called some of His disciples, and they found
out who He was, they went away to tell their
friends and relations, and tried to bring them to
Jesus too. And just so it is now. As soon as
a person becomes a real Christian, and finds out
what a precious Saviour Jesus is, he will try to
persuade others to love and serve Him too.
Hence you will find such a person becoming a
Sunday-school teacher, or a tract-distributor, or
a Bible-reader, or a visitor of the sick. And
these are among the most useful things that any
one can do. The reason why they are so, is
because they are means which God has appointed
for saving souls from death; and to save a soul,





Vn GOD!'s u TG U

i the most usful thing in the world. If you,
or I, could make a world like this we live in, we
should feel that we had done some very great
thing. Yet Jesus has told us, that one soul is
worth more than a whole world. If we should
be the means, therefore, of leading one person to
love and serve Jesus, we really do more good
than if we could make a world. This is one
reason why greatness in God's sight is better
than greatness in the sight of men. It is more

But it is so, again, because this greatness is
more luting than the other. Greatness in man's
sight-a greatness that connects itself with
birth, or money, or talents merely-will soon
pass away; but greatness in God's sight-a
greatness that connects itself with our being
made good and holy-will never pass away.
The former of these is like having one's name
written on the sand, upon the ocean's shore,
where the next wave will wash it all away.
The latter is like having one's name chiselled m
marble, so that it cannot easily be done away.
One of these is like the height which a person
reaches who gets on stilts. He may stalk round
for a little while high up above others; but
pretty soon he must lay aside his stilts, and then
he comes down, as low as anybody. The other
is like the height of one who rises by actually
rowing tall. He will remain to-morrow, and
next year, and for years to come, quite as tall as
he is to-day. One of these kinds of greatness
is like a sky-rocket. It shoots up suddenly into
he sky, with a great rush and blue, and then,





W0 .m ats xaw
just suddenly, it goes out again in total
darkness. Ito beauty fades, its brightness dis-
appears, and the blackened stick, falling to the
earth, is all that remains of it. The other is
like the star, which God has set in the heavens.
It shines with a clear, calm, beautiful, steady
light. It has been shining so for ages put; it
will be shining so for ages to come. And this
is just what God Himself compares His people
to when He says," They that be wise shall shine
as the brightness of the firmament; and they
that turn many to righteousness, as the stars
for ever and ever." Greatness in the sight of
God is better than greatness in the sight of
men, because it is more lasting.
And then it is so, again, because it is within
the reach of all. This is not true of greatness
in the sight of men, but it is true of greatness
in the sight of God. Can we all be born of
kings or princes ? No. Can we all become as
rich as Girard was ? No. Can we all become
eat poets like Milton, or great painters like
est, or great generals like Wellington, Napo-
leon, or Washington No. But may we not
all become great, in the sight of the Lord, as
John the Baptist was P Yes, we may. For it
was the grace of God which made him what he
was; and the same grace will be given to us, if
we seek it with all our hearts. It is spoken of
as "the grace of God which bringeth salvation
to all men." All may seek it. All may secure
it, and all may be made great by it.
There was a book published several years ago
which almost everybody read. The name of one





it eoOn's s8re 81
Sthe principal characters described in the book
was Uncle Tom." He is represented u a
negro slave in one of the Southern States of
America. He is described as a good man, and
a great man, although but a poor slave. Some
people think there never was such a character
among the slaves. But, I dare say, a great
many such could be found among them. A
clergyman who had spent many years in the
West Indian islands,before slavery was abolished,
gave me an account of such a one, whom he knew
very well. He assured me it was strictly true.
He said there was once an insurrection in one
of those islands; that is, some had undertaken
to put down the laws and the magistrates, and
do just what they pleased. Among other things,
they resolved to break up the religious meet-
ings of the slaves in that neighbourhood. These
meetings were conducted by an old slave, called
Uncle Ben. He was a pious, excellent negro,
who was respected and loved by all who knew
him. He had learned to read, and was a sort
of minister among the slaves in that part of the
island. The rioters went to the negroes' meet-
ing-house, at the time of service, for the purpose
of breaking it up. It happened that Uncle Ben
was not there that day. He was unwell; and
one of his friends was conducting the meeting.
The rioters went in, and seized the leader of the
service. They led him out of the meeting-house,
and put him to death, without a moment's delay.
They struck off the poor fellow's head, and set
it on a pole, and then went round to the different
plantations, to terrify the poor negroes by this





8a TEH GRIAT MAN
bloody sight of the head of their praying leader.
In the course of their march they came to Uncle
Ben's cabin. They halted at the door, and sent
some one to fetch him out. When he appeared,
the leader of the mob pointed to the bleeding
head on the pole, and asked, "Do you know
that head, Uncle Ben "Yes, massa," says
Ben; I knows him." Well, Ben, that's what
he's got for his praying. And if you don't stop
praying, that's just what you'll get. The next
time we catch you praying, we 11 do just the
same with your head."
While this was going on, a great number of
the slaves had gathered round, who looked with
intense interest on this scene. They were the
fellow-slaves of Uncle Ben, and most of them
members of his church. Ben gazed upon the
head of his friend. Then he looked the leader
of the mob full in the face, and said, Massa,
you mean dat ?" "To be sure I do," said the
man; and if you wish to keep your head upon
your shoulders, you'll give up praying at once."
n turned to his fellow-slaves in a moment,
and said, "Bredren, let us pray." Then he
kneeled down in the presence of those fierce,
lawless men, and poured out his soul in prayer.
He prayed that God would pardon their sin,
and show them the evil of their ways, and
change their hearts by His grace. He prayed
that God would give him and his fellow-
slaves grace to be faithful to their Chris-
tian profession, and never, by any threats or
dangers, to be turned away from their duty to
Him. When he ceased, he rose up, and went





IX eOD's gr6nt. 88
into his cabin. God's power was on the hearts
of those rioters, so that they went away without
offering to touch him. Uncle Ben was a great
man, although he was but a slave.
Now, look at another instance. A steamboat
is making her way through the sparkling waters
of Lake Erie. The pilot at the wheel is old
John Maynard. He is a bluff, weather-beaten
sailor, tanned by many a burning summer's sun,
and many a wintry tempest. From one end of
the lake to the other, he is known by the name
of "honest John Maynard and the secret of
his honesty to his neighbours is his love to God.
The land is about ten miles off, when the
captain, coming up from his cabin, cries to a
sailor,-
What's all that smoke there, coming out of
the hold P"
"It's from the engine-room, I guess," said
the man.
"Down with you, then, and let me know."
The sailor disappeared for a moment beneath,
and then returned much faster than he went,
and exclaimed, "The hold's on fire, sir I"
The captain rushed down, and found the
account too true. Some sparks had fallen on a
bundle of tow. No one had seen the accident;
and now, not only much of the baggage, but also
the sides of the vessel, were in a smouldering
fame.
All hands, passengers as well as sailors, were
called together, and, two lines being formed,
one on each side of the hold, buckets of water
were passed and repaed. Filled from the





4 f G 6BaT xAI
lake, they flew along the line of ready hands,
were dashed hissing on the burning mass, and
then passed, on the other side, to be refilled.
It seemed, for a few moments, as if the flame
were subdued.
"How's her head P" shouted the captain.
"West-sou'-west, sir," answered Maynard.
"Keep her sou' and by west," cried the
captain; "we must go ashore anywhere."
It happened that a draught of wind drove
back the flames, which soon began to blaze up
more furiously towards the saloon; and the par-
tition between it and the hold was soon on fire.
Then long wreaths of smoke began to find their
way through the skylight; and seeing this, the
captain ordered all the women forward. The
engineer put on his utmost steam; the American
flag was run up, with the union down, in token
of distress; and water was thrown on the sails
to make them hold the wind. And still John
Maynard stood by the wheel, though now he
was cut off, by a sheet of smoke and flame, from
the ship's crew.
Greater and greater grew the heat; the
engineers fled from the engine-room, the passen-
gers were clustering round the vessel's bow, the
sailors were sawing planks to lash the women
on, the boldest passengers were throwing off
their coats and waistcoats, and preparing for
one long struggle for lilt. And still the coasts
grew plainer; the paddles as yet worked well;
they could not be more than a mile from the
shore, and boats were seen starting to their
assistance.





IN GOD's neaT.
"John Maynard cried the captain.
"Ay, ay, sir 1" said John.
"Can you hold on five minutes longer P"
"I'll try, sir."
Noble fellow! And he did try. The flames
came nearer and nearer; a sheet of smoke would
sometimes almost suffocate him; his hair was
singed, his blood seemed ready to boil with the
intense heat. Crouching as far back as he
could, he held the wheel firmly with his left
hand, till the flesh shrivelled, and the muscles
cracked in the flames. Then he stretched forth
his right hand, and bore the same agony without
a scream or a groan. It was enough for him
that he heard the cheer of the sailors to the
approaching boats, and the cry of the captain,
" The women and children first, then every man
for himself, and God for us all!" These were
the last words he heard. Exactly how he
perished, was never known. Whether, dizzied by
the smoke, he lost his footing in endeavouring
to come forward, and fell overboard, or whether
he was suffocated and fell into the flames, his
comrades could not tell. At the moment the
vessel struck, the boats were at her side; passen-
gers, sailors, and captain leaped into them, or
swam for their lives; and all, save he to whom
under God they owed everything, escaped.
We see from these cases, my dear children,
that the poorest persons, and those in the hum-
blest positions of life, may become great in the
sight of the Lord. Who would not rather be
great in the sight of God, than in the sight of
men P This greatness we may all attain to, if





as T U Gaw .
we only try aright. But there were three things,
in John the Baptist's cue, that we must remem-
ber, if we want to succeed. Job bega early.
He did not wait till he grew up to be a man,
before he loved and served God. He began
while he was yet a child. And so must we, if
we wish to be really great in goodness.
And then John had the Holy Spirit to help
Aim. When the angel Gabriel told Johns
father, Zachariss, that God was going to give
him a son, he said that he would be filled with
the Holy Ghost from the time he was born.
John never would have been good or great in
the sight of God, without the help of this blessed
Spirit; and nobody else ever will, either. If
you want to be great, as John was, you must
get the help of the Holy Spirit, as he did.
Andthen, again, John gave up everything that
was likely to hinder him from becoming great.
We are told that "he drank neither wine nor
strong drink." He was a temperate man, not
only in drinking, but in eating and in every-
thing. And so must we be, if we would be
great in the sight of God. May God help us
all to remember these things, my dear children I
May He give us grace "so to follow" John's
"doctrine and holy life, that we may truly
repent according to his preaching; and, after
his example, constantly speak the truth, boldly
rebuke vice, and patiently suffer for the truth s
sake, through Jesus Chrst our Lord." Amen.










9t Tig's Itssros.


"Consider the lilies of the field."-MATr. vi. 28.
THERE was once a man who was a great writer.
He had a wonderful power to tell just what
people think and feel; and he had the power to
tell these things in a way that nobody else could,
so that those who read what he wrote, would
exclaim, "That is just what I think, and just
what I feel." Now, this man tells us about
some who loved to be in the country, became
they could
"Find tongue in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
And this is all true, my dear children. Perhaps
you never thought of it, but still it is true. It
is true, that there are "tongues in trees;" it is
true, that there are "books in the running
brooks," as they flow through the fields and the
woods. It is true, that there are "sermons in
stones;" and every little pebble you pick up by
the side of the stream, if you know how to thin
of it rightly, will preach a sermon to you. It
will tell you about the goodness and power ol
God in a better way than I can do, or any other
i>




88 "HM ILT's Luon.
living preacher. And it is true that there is
"good in everything."
And now, dear children, when you go into the
country this next summer, I hope you will have
a nice time of it, in wandering through the
sweet fields and woods; but I hope you will not
spend all the time in play. See if you cannot
find out tongues in the trees, or hear words in
the brooks, or find thoughts in the flowers.
Yes! every leaf has a tongue, and every little
flower. They all tell us of God. Somebody
has said they are the smiles of God. But what-
ever we may think of this, we know they all
have tongues to tell us something. And, if we
only learn to understand what they teach, how
many wise and profitable things may we learn
from them!
I remember reading about a missionary, who
was stationed in a distant country, far away from
all his friends and loved ones at home. He had
many trials to bear. At first he bore them
cheerfully. He loved his work, and was very
happy in attending to it. But, after a while, a
change took place in his feelings. He lost his
trust and confidence in God, and began to
think there was no truth in what he had been
believing and teaching. He had doubts about the
Bible, and the truth of God's word, and even
doubted whether there was a God at all, who
made the world and all things; and in this
uncomfortable state of mind he was not fit to
preach or attend to any of his duties.
But once, while going on horseback to preach,
and thinking of all these things,-of his unhappy




tM LIIT'S LUss80S. 89
state, and his doubts about the truth of what he
was to preach,-his way led him along a thickly-
shaded path; and, as he went on, a little leaf
dropped from one of the trees over his head, and
came shaking, trembling down, (you know how
the little leaves fall,) and lighted right in front
of him, on the saddle. He picked it up,
looked at it, turned it over, and, as the sun was
shining through the trees, held it up to the sun-
light, and saw all the beautiful little veins, look-
ing like a delicate piece of lace or network. He
thought, "Yes! that little leaf tells me the
Bible is true,-tells me there is a God; for
none but a wise, merciful, good, and powerful
God could have made a little leaf like that. I
am sure it is all true," and he went on his way
rejoicing, feeling happy and thankful.
Now, dear children, had not that leaf a tongue
for that missionary P Did he not find a tongue
in the tree from which that little leaf fell down P
Certainly he did: and if we will only consider
the flowers and leaves that God has made, we
shall find them always telling us about God and
good things.
It was in this way, dear children, that our
Saviour taught the people wise and good things.
Once when He was walking through the fields,
He saw a man sowing, and then He began to
preach a sermon about sowing the seed. Again,
while going along, He saw a shepherd leading the
sheep to pasture, and then He preached a sermon
about the Good Shepherd. And yet, again,
while walking by the lake, He saw some fisher-
men in their boats, mending their nets, to catch





40 THI ULT'I LIBSOSI.
fish, and then He preached a sermon about being
fishers of men. One day, being under a shady
vine, and seeing the beautiful clusters hanging
down from the branches, lie compared Himself
to the vine, and His people to the branches, and
preached a sermon about that. At one time 1lo
told the people about the little birds; and here
He tells us about the lilies:-" Consider the
lilies of the field."
Now, we are going to try to learn from the
lilies. The lessons we are about to consider, are
those which the lily teaches.
There are four lessons we should all learn
from the lily.
In the first place, there is a lesson rnom its
growth.
The lily, in its beginning, is a very unpromis-
ing plant. It starts out of the earth, from an
ugly-looking bulb or root, in size and shape
something like an onion, so that, without know-
ing what the lily is, you would never think that
anything beautiful could come out of that un-
sightly and unpromising little root. Nobody
would think so. But, children, put it into the
ground, and cover it up, and then we shall see.
God will make the rains and dew come down
upon it; lie will make the sun shine upon it,
and warm it; and by-and-by a little sprout will
begin to grow, so tender that you could take it
with your finger and thumb, and destroy it with
the slightest nip; and yet it has power to thrust
aside the earth, and force its way through the
ground, until it comes to the surface. Then,
when it feels the warm sun and fresh air, it




MHE ILT's IUsONw. 41
grow faster, sprouts up higher and higher, and
by-and-by come the beautiful green leaves, which
drink in the dew and rain, and seem to rejoice
in the sunshine, when it falls upon them. Then
the pretty little bud comes out from the beauti-
ful leaves, shows its little head, grows larger and
larger, until it bursts into the beautiful white lily.
Now, all the people in the world could not
make one of these little bulbs grow up into such
a beautiful flower. No: God alone can do it.
Yet, dear children, the growth of the lily is just
like our own growth. Suppose we take one of
these little girls, or little boys, seven or eight
years old. Their eyes are bright like diamonds,
and their faces rosy with health and life. God
has made them well; their little faces tell it.
Suppose I ask you, What are you made of?"
what would you say? "Dust." Yes! dust;
you are made of dust! Suppose one of you
should die, and we should put you into a lead
coffin, and bury you in the grave for four, or
five, or ten years, and then take the coffin up,
and open it; what should we find in it P Dust!
-a little heap of dark dust, that you or I might
take in the hollow of our hand! These bright
eyes are dust; these rosy cheeks are dust;
these active limbs are dust; these curling ring-
lets are all, all dust! God has made them grow
out of dust. Oh! what wonderful power and
wisdom God must have to make these beautiful
lilies grow out of this little root, and make these
eyes, and cheeks, and hands, and feet, and bodies,
all grow out of a handful of dust!
What a lesson the growth of the lily teaches I





d TaH LLT's LimsONs.
Ye, my dear children, the growth of the lily,
and our own growth, both teach us a lemon of
the power and wisdom of God.
Now, when you look upon the lilies, or rose,
or beautiful flowers of any kind, as you wander
in the woods, when you sit beside the pebbly
brook, or under the shade of the trees, and see
a little flower peeping up from among the grass
around it, stoop down and pluck it, and think of
this text, "Consider the allies Consider the
flowers, and think what they teach of the power
of God, and the wisdom of God, to make all these
beautiful things come out of the dust! Remem-
ber, then, dear children, the first lesson:-the
lesson from its growth.
The second lesson which the lily teaches us,
is the lesson of humility.
It teaches us the lesson of humility in two
things:-the position in which it grows, and the
attitude which it assumes.
The lily loves to grow in lonely and retired
places. It loves to stay in the background,-to
be in the shade. It is the lily of the valley."
You do not find it on the mountain-top, or
growing in the streets, or garden-walks, but you
must go into the retired and shady places; and
when you want to look for its flowers, you do
not find them the first thing you see in the
garden, but you must go into the corners, and,
when you get there, push aside the leaves, and
there you will see the beautiful flower, all alone,
in the seclusion of a shady corner. It is an
humble flower, and it teaches a lesson of humility
by the place in which it growus.




THB LLY'8 LIIBOI. 48
And then, its attitude shows its humility; for,
when the lily grows up, it hangs its head down,
as though it wanted to hide itself. It does not
spread itself out like the proud dahlia, or tulip,
as much as to say, "Am I not a beautiful lower?"
Oh, no; when the lily comes to its full growth,
and its beautiful white flowers are formed, it
hangs down its head, as though it wished to hide
its beauty, and felt that it had nothing to be
proud of at all,-as though God meant the
very form and attitude of this flower to teach us
humility.
Now, dear children, humility is one of the
sweetest things for anybody to have, and espe-
cially for boys and girls. Nothing is more lovely
in young persons than to be humble,-to culti-
vate humility. I will tell you what I mean by
humility.
There was once a nobleman, who lived in a
fine country-place, who was the richest and
greatest man in all that country. There were
also some poor farmers, who lived around him,
who used to hold a prayer-meeting once a week.
This nobleman was a very pious man, and he
thought he would like to go to their prayer-
meeting. The first time he went, as soon as he
opened the door and stepped inside, they all got
up, as though they could not go on with their
meeting, because the nobleman was there. Then
they wanted him to go up and take the best seat.
lie said, No, my friends; sit down where you
are, and I will sit here by the door. I came
here, a poor sinner, like the rest of you; we are
all on a level, when we come before God. God





44 T" ILYT'S LUMOn.
has been pleased to give me more wealth than
you. It is right, when we go into the world,
that some respect should be shown to this; but
when we meet here, we all meet on a level, as
sinners to pray for God's blessing." This, dear
children, is one example of humility. Now let
me give you another.
You have all heard about Dr. Morrison, a
missionary to China. As his labour was great,
and almost too much for one to accomplish, he
wanted some one to help him; and he wrote
home to the Missionary Society, in England, to
send out another missionary. When they got
his letter, they set to work to inquire among
their friends for a suitable young man, to go out
to China as a missionary to help Dr. Morrison.
After a while a young man from the country-a
pious young man, who loved Jesus Christ-came
and offered himself. He was poor, had poor
clothes on, and looked like a countryman,-rough
and unpolished. He went to these gentlemen,
was introduced to them, and had a talk with
them. They then said he might go out of the
room, till they had consulted with each other
about him. When he was gone, they said they
were afraid the young man would never do to
help Dr. Morrison; that it would not do to send
him as a missionary, as he was but a rough
countryman. Finally, they said to one of their
number, Doctor, you go out and tell the young
man that the gentlemen do not think him fit to
be a missionary, but if he would like to go out
as servant to a missionary, we will send him."
The doctor did not much like to do it; but he




Tia L]LY's Lumiows. 45
told the young man that they did not think he
had education enough, and a great many other
things necessary for a missionary; but if he
would go as a servant, they would send him out.
Now, a great many would have said, "No, you
don't do any such thing; if I can't go as a mis-
sionary, I won't go at all; you don't catch me
going as anybody's servant!" But no, children;
he did not say so. lie calmly said, Very well,
sir; if they do not think me fit to be a mission-
ary, I will go as a servant; I am willing to be a
hewer of wood, or drawer of water, or to do any-
thing to advance the cause of my heavenly
Master." Ile was then sent out as a servant,
but he got to be soon a missionary; and turned
out to be the Rev. Dr. Milne, one of the best
and greatest missionaries that ever went out to
any country. lis success, my dear children,
sprang out of his humility.
In the reign of George III., King of England,
there was a learned and a good man who had
been appointed Chief-Justice of the country,-
one of the highest and most honourable offices.
This gentleman had a son about sixteen years of
age, and one evening, as lie was about retiring,
he called him to his room, and said, My son, I
want to tell you the secret of my success in life.
I can give it to you in one word,-humility.
This is the secret of it all; because I never tried
to push myself forward, and was always willing
to take the place assigned to me, and do the best
I could in it. And, my son, if you want to be
successful, learn humility."
Humility is a very lovely trait; and beneficial,





40 TW UIT's um.on.
not only to ourselves, rs in the caue of this
Justice, but to others, as I will now show you.
A young preacher, of the Methodibt church,
was once sent out on a circuit to preach the
gospel. He was sent, not into the city, but into
the country. One evening, as he was going on
his journey to preach, he stopped at the house
of a farmer, who was also a Methodist. This
farmer, though a good man, was sometimes very
cross. He had met with some people who
deceived him, and professed to be what they were
not. When the minister came to his house, and
told the farmer what he came for, the farmer was
very cold to him, and even said something about
being often deceived by people, who were not
what they seemed to be. "There's my barn,"
said he; put up your horse in the barn." He
had plenty of servants, and might have sent one
of them, the young minister thought; so he
was about to mount his horse and go on his way,
although it was going to rain. Then he thought
he would not: That is not the way Jesus would
have done," he said to himself; so he took his
horse to the barn, and went to the house. When
he came to the front-door, the farmer sent one
of his servants to take him round to the
kitchen; and when there, he found some very
coarse provision spread out for him on a rough
solitary table. He thought it very strange, and
the servants in the kitchen thought it strange too,
that their master should send the minister to
the kitchen. The young man felt much hurt,
and thought he could not stand it, and would
get his horse and go on again: but he said to




Ma Ltyt' asuows. 47

himsll Jess would not have done so; I will
try to be humble, like Jesus."
He at down to eat the bread, and did not
complain. After a while, he heard the bell ring
for prayers, and he went in with the servants to
the room, and took his place. The farmer read
a chapter; and, on getting through, it was very
clearhe had not made up his mind whether he
would pray himself, or call upon the minister.
At last he called on the young man, and
asked him to pray. The minister felt glad to
have an opportunity of praying; and when he
began, he forgot everything but the presence of
God, and he poured out his feelings in prayer
before Him. His heart was full, and his feel-
ings, which had been wounded by what he had
just borne, were relieved by tears. He wept;
the servants wept; the people of the family
wept; and even the farmer himself wept; and
they had a weeping time of it,-all kneeling
down, and all melted to tears. When they got
up, the farmer came to the young minister, the
tears running down his cheeks, and took him by
the hand, and said, "Oh, forgive me, my dear
friend and brother, forgive me; and I will pray
to God to forgive me, too, for treating you so
unkindly. I do not know what is the matter
with me. Satan has been tempting me to do
what is wrong. I am ashamed of myself for
treating you so. I wonder you said nothing
cross, and were willing to stay when I sent
you to the kitchen." The minister said, "I
was trying to do like Jesus, and as He would
have done; and I hope you will try to do so




48 THR LILYT' L35sOI.
too." The farmer took him into his parlour and
gave him the best bed, and the best room in the
house, to occupy that night; and pressed him to
stay two or three days. He consented to stay
the next day, when they had a meeting, got the
people together, and the minister preached.
That sermon was blessed to the conversion of
two or three souls. Two or three of the farmer's
family were converted to God, and became useful
Christians. Oh, what a blessed thing it was for
that farmer's family, and for that neighbourhood,
that this minister understood humility !-that
he was an humble-minded man, and had learned
the lesson of humility that the lily teaches, and
that Jesus teaches!
Jesus came to earth to teach us to be humble.
He came, not as a full-grown man, but as a little
child, to teach us humility. He was born, not
in a splendid mansion, or a costly palace, but in
a stable; and His cradle was a manger. And
when He grew up to be a man, and went about
preaching, He was so poor that He had not
where to lay His head,-so dependent, that
women ministered unto Him. On one occasion,
when His disciples were all in a room together,
He took a towel, and girded Himself. Then He
took a basin of water, and washed their feet, and
wiped them with the towel. He did all this to
teach us the lesson of humility.
Now, my dear children, I want you all to
learn the lesson of humility which Jesus teaches,
and which the lily teaches.
The third lesson the lily teaches us, is the
lesson of contentment.




na LIT's LUO InS. 0
The lily is satised with the place in which God
has put it. It grows there, and likes it better
than any other; and although-the roses are out
in the middle of the garden, the lily does not fret,
nor does it envy them; and though the rose-
bushes are much larger, the lily is satisfied with
being a little plant that can just grow up in the
shade, and lets the other plants grow up above
it. The lily is contented with its position, and
size, and colour; and although the rose has its
beautiful red, and the lilacs and dahlias have
their different colours, the lily has only the one
beautiful white. It is satisfied with its colour,
its place, its size, and all that God has made it
to be, and to have.
Ah, my dear children, if we would only learn
this lesson, how happy should we be I Take it
to your homes, and when you get up in the
morning to be dressed, remember the lilies, and
if you do not find your bonnet just what you
like, be content with it. And if you do not
find your coat, your collar, or something else you
have to put on, exactly what you would wish it,
be content with it, and remember the lily. How
happy you would make your home, and how
much unhappiness you would save yourself!
There was once a good Bishop who had a great
many things to vex him; but he never mur-
mured. Some one said to him, Well, Bishop,
I should like to know what is your secret of
always being so happy. You have a great many
trouble, trials, and difficulties, but I never see
.you worried, nor hear you complain about them.
What is the secret?" "Oh, the secret is, I





50 n LU rT's LUMIOs.
look up; my object is to get to heaven, which i
above. I look around, and I see a great many
people who have worse trials than I have, and I
am satisfied with my lot. I look to the grave-
yard, and see that when I die, I am only to
occupy a space six feet long and eighteen inches
wide, and I am satisfied with what I now have."
That was the secret:-looking up to heaven,
hoping to get there at last; looking around at
others who are worse off; and then to the grave,
in which we must all soon rest.
Now, children, I have a capital rule to give
you about fretting and grumbling,-a very short
rule, which it is worth your while to recollect,
if you want to cultivate contentment. Now,
listen, while I tell you this rule; and try to
practise it. Never fret about what you can't
help," because it won't do an good. "Never
fret about what you AN help, because, if you
can help it, do so. When you are tempted to
grumble about anything, ask yourself, Can I
help this P" if you can, do so; and if you can't,
don't fret; and see how much happier you will
feel.
Oh, remember this little rule! I want all
these dear children to begin while they are
young to practise it. Before you go to bed to-
night, think about it :-" Never fret about what
you can't help, nor what you can help,"-and
fret not at all.
I will tell you one more story about content-
ment. I remember reading a fable (you know,
in fables, we make things talk that don't know
how to talk) about a toad and a plantain.laf.




m MiT's uLasosn. 61
'Te toad used to live under a stone beside the
brook. He was a fine fat toad, and got along
in the world about as well as toads generally do.
One day he went out to find something to eat,
and, hopping about among the green leaves by
the creek's side, he heard a rustle among the
leaves. He said to himself, "There's a beetle
I like beetles. I'll be quiet and catch him." So
he crept along till he got to it, and stuck out his
tongue to get him, but it happened to be an
tumble bee I He dropped it like a hot coal, and
had to cry out (in the way toads cry), and hop
back to his hole under the stone. He suffered
with the pain, and his tongue swelled up, and he
was obliged to lie by for two or three days.
Hopping back to his home, he plucked a leaf of
the plantain, and took it home for his medicine,
and put it in his mouth, to cure the sting of the
bee. He stayed at home for two or three days,
and began to get hungry, and weak, and lean.
So he thought he would go out, and find some-
thing to eat. As he hopped along, he came
under the leaf of a plantain,-(now, this plant
has very broad and lrge leaves, and they make
quite a shade,)-and, being very tired and
hungry, he stopped under the leaf, and, looking
up, said, Oh, what a nice time you plantains
have! I should like to change places with you.
Toads have a very hard life." The plantain
said, Friend toad, I should like to change too.
I don't see what toads can complain of; I think
they must have a fine time of it."-" Let me tell
you," said the toad: "In the first place, we
have to work for our living, and find all we get





SS wEa xri's auos.
to eat; and sometimes, when we think we Me
gog to get a beetle, we get an humble bee.
Then, again, in winter-time, we get frozen up;
and when we come out, the boys come along and
stone us, the crows pick us up, and we have a
great many troubles of this kind; while you
plantains just have to sit by the river, and don't
have to work. When the rain comes upon you,
it makes you grow, and it feeds you. I should like
very much to change places with you."-"But
stop! let me tell you my side, too. We plantains
cannot hop about as you can, but have to stand
justwherewe are placed; and if we want a drink of
water, we can't go to the creek and get it. We
can't move an inch to see the world, or visit our
next neighbour. Then, the sun shines hot upon
us all day, and we have to bear it, and can't hop
uuder a nice cool leaf as you do. Then, by-and-
by, comes along a cow, and nips off our head, or
a little worm, and eats into our heart, and we
have not power to shake him off. I should like
to change places with you. You take mine, and
I will take yours; for I am so anxious to hop
down to the creek and get a drink. I have not
had a sip for months."-" Stay I stay!" said the
toad; "I hear a cricket; let me get it and off
he went for the cricket, but never came back.
The plantain said he thought the toad was a
very shabby sort of fellow."
Thus, my dear children, it appears that every-
body has trials; and the only way to get on is,
not to be wishing for what we cannot get, but to
learn the lily's lesson of contentment, and be
satisfied with what God has given us.





s r's zasL m Msos. 58
The lat lemon the lily teaches, is the laon
of its beauty. Oh, if I only had one here, you
could see for yourselves how beautiful it is
There are three things in which its beauty con-
sists:-its form, its colour, and its fragrance.
It grows into a beautiful rounded flower, and
has no sharp edges or corners. Then, its colour
shows its beauty. It is a beautiful pure white.
It is satisfied with one shade, and does not want
red, or yellow, or purple, or blue, or pink.
Then, its fragrance forms a part of its beauty.
It perfumes the air, and, before you see it, you
say, "There's a lily about here.' You search
for it, and trace it by its scent, until you find
its little head, in all its beauty, hidden among
the leaves. There is also another thing in
which I may say its beauty lies. It is a type of
Christ our Saviour. He calls himself the "Lily
of the Valley," and the Rose of Sharon." The
form, and colour, and fragrance of the lily, are
all emblems to us of the beauty of Jesus Christ,
and of what Jesus will make us if we are His
children.
May God give us all grace to be humble and
contented! May He help us to learn and prac-
tise these lessons! for in so doing we shall find
greater happiness and comfort than on any other
plan.
Now, children, during the summer, when you
go into the fields and woods, remember this
text,-" Consider the lilies of the field,"-and
learn the lessons of their growth, their humility,
their contentment, and their beauty.
My dear children, remember them; don't be





64 THa LT'es UTisows.
atisfled with having them in your headm, buttery
to get them into your Iearts,and keep them there.
Don't be satisfied with talk about them, but
try and practise them, especially these two,-
humility and contentment,-which the lily so
beautifully teaches. You must begin to practise
them now, while young. It will be better for
you than thousands of gold or silver, or the
richest fortune you could possibly have, or the
greatest luxuries this world can afford.
Pray to God to give you grace to be humble
and contented, and to learn wisdom from the
flowers of the field. When you see, or think of
these flowers, lift up your thoughts to Him who
made them and you; and that glorious Saviour,
who likened Himself to the lily, will teach you
to find beauties in nature, and in everything
around you.
Remember, then, dear children, the lessons
you have heard; and may God bless them to
you, and to me, and to us all I










et it for o'


"My son, gi.v me thine 'het."--Pov. xxiii. 26.
SUPPosE the angel Gabriel should come down
from heaven, and stand here before us all, dressed
in shining white, with his face brighter than the
sun: what a beautiful sight he would present
And suppose he should take a rollof paper from
his bosom, and say he had a list of names, which
God had given him, of fifty girls and fifty boys,
and that God wanted all of them to give Him
something which they had; and suppose he
should begin to unroll the paper, and say that he
was going to read out the names, and tell us
what it was that God wanted: how strange we
should feel I Each one would be saying to him-
self, I wonder if my name is there; I wonder
what He wants me to give." And when you
heard your name read out, how glad you would
feel! And suppose the angel should my that he
wanted you to go home, and get what he was sent
for, that he might take it back with him: how
gladly you would go! how quickly you would run!
how soon you would be back, and bring him what
he wanted I No matter what it might be,-if it
were your most valuable book, or your favourite





8 TIB eO lT 1OB o00.

plaything, your nicest doll, your new bonnet, or
res, or cap, or coat,-something that you prized
most of all that you possessed,-how gladly you
would bring it
Now, my dear children, there is no angel here;
but there is a message from God. Listen to
what the text says; it is God, who is speaking
in the language of the text; it is God, who say,
My son, give me thine heart."
There are two things I wish to talk about, in
connexion with these words.
The flrt is :-What it meean to give God our
hearts.
The second is:- Why oe should gi them to
Him.
Now, my dear children, you will notice that
God does not ask us to give Him our heads, nor
our hands, nor our feet. Is not this strange P
Yet there is a reason for it. What do we do
with our heads P We think with them. What
do we do with our hands? We work with them.
What do we do with our feet P We walk with
them. But we don't do any of these things with
our hearts; that is not what our hearts are for.
Look here is a little boy who has just re-
turned to his home. He finds his father there,
and he hastens to him, and throws his arms
around his neck, and says,-" Oh, my dear father,
I do love you with all my-" what P-why,
heart, to be sure.
Then, what is it that we do with our hearts P
Why,we love with them. Yes, my dear children,
our hearts were made for this. The heart is the
seat, or place of the affections.




TH GIm 10B GOD. 07
In a largecity, like this in which we lie, there
are different places where different things are
made. There is the mint, where they make
money; and the navy.yard, where they build
ship. And then we have printing-offices, where
boo are made; and factories, where engines
and locomotives are built; and tailors' shops,
where gentlemen's clothes are made; and mil-
liners' shops, where ladies' bonnets are made;
and confectioners' shops, where cakes and sweet-
meats are furnished; and apothecaries' shops,
where medicines are prepared and sold. It would
be impossible, in a great city, to have one place
which could furnish all these different things.
And so in anygreat manufacturingestablishment.
There are a great many different things to be
done; and these are done, not altogether, but
each separately and in a different place. I re-
member once visiting the Bible-house, in the city
of New York. This is an immensely large build-
ing, belonging to the American Bible Society,
where Bibles are made to be distributed all over
the world. The whole building is occupied in
making Bibles. But of all the multitude of rooms
in this great building, each one is occupied with
some particular branch of the work. This par-
ticular work is done in that one room alone, and
nowhere else. There is one room where the
paper is moistened, and made fit for printing on;
and another, where the types are set up; and
another, where the printing is done; and then
there is a drying-room, and a pressing-room, and
a sorting-room, and a stitching-room, and a
binding-room,and a gilding-room, and a finishing-





so na m in won a.
room, and a pcking-room. The packing is ner
done in the printing-room, nor the printing in
the packing-room. Each part of the work is done
by itselL and kept separate from the rest.
And just so it is with our frames, our bodies
and souls. A multitude of things are to be done,
and there is a separate place for the doing of each.
There is much seeing to be done, and the eyes
are appointed to attend to this. There is much
hearing to be done, and the ears are made for
this. And then we have the nose for smelling,
and the tongue for tasting, and the finger-ends for
feeling, and the brain for thinking; and the heart
is that part of our frame which has to do with
the affections. The heart, you know, is situated
right in the centre of the body. When we speak
about the heart, we generally place our hand
upon the left side, as if the heart were situated
just there. But it is no nearer the left side than
the right, only we can feel its beatings moredis-
tinctly there. Its true place is in the centre of the
body. The heart, you know, my dear children,
is a hard substance, almost round, and about as
large as one's fist. It is divided into four little
chambers. Two of these are employed in pump-
ing the blood into the heart, and the other two
m pumping it out. And this pumping is going
on day and night, all the time, from the moment
we begin to live, until we die. You can feel this
pumping, when you lay your hand upon your left
aide. But is this what God wants P Does He
wish us to take these real hearts out of our
bodies, and give them to Him F
No, not at all I We read about a nation who




91 70oB 2O0. a
need to worship their idol-god in this way. The
Peruvians, who lived in South America, used to
make offering to their idols in this manner:-
the would drag persons into the temple of their
god, and lay them on a table or altar before his
image, and take out their hearts, and present
them, all smoking and quivering, and almost
alive, as an offering to him.
But, my dear children, this is not what God
wants of us. It is not the literal heart that God
wants. He speaks of the heart here in the way
of figure, as the place where our affections lie;
and what He wants us to give Him, is not the
fleshly hearts out of our bodies, but the affections
which are seated in these hearts. When He says,
"My son, give me thine heart," he means, My
son, give me thy love; give me thy affections;
set thy affections on me;. love me above all
things.
This is what the text means, when God says in
it, "My son, ive me thine heart."
Now, this is the answer to the first question
that we proposed,-what it means to give our
hearts to God.
The second question is:- Why should we give
our heart to God?
There are two reasons for this.
In the first place, we should give our hearts
to God, because He has the best right to them.
He made them for Himself, and they belong
to Him. There is a place in our hearts, in our
affections, which God designed for Himself to fill
or occupy, and nothing else but God can fill that
place; and unless God does fill it, we never shall




o00 M ea r OBs ao
be happy, either in this world, or intbeworld to
come. And if God made our heart on purpose
that we might love Him with them, srel this
is the best reason in the world why we sould
give them to Him.
Suppose a little girl should spend holiday in
dressing her doll, or a little boy in making akite
or a boat, and just when they were finished,-
the doll all dressed, looking very pretty, and the
kite ready to fly, or the boat to sail,-aome one
should come, and take it away with violence: how
wrong it would be I
Suppose a gentleman should build himself a
beautiful house, and fit it up for his own use, and
just as he was getting ready to move into it, and
ive there, one of his neighbours should get in,
and not be willing to let him enter and live in
the house that he made for himself: how unjust
it would bet That man would have no right
to the house. That girl would have no right to
the doll, or that boy to the kite, or boat. The
house, the doll, the kite, or boat, each belonged
to the person who had made it, and no one else
had any right to it.
What should we call the person who should
act in this way ? We should call him a robber.
Just so it is, my dear children, with our hearts.
God made them for Himself. God desires to
keep our hearts. He wishes to come in and
dwell in them. He wishes to possess our affec-
tions. He desires that we should love Him
above all things.
He says in one place in the Bible, "Behold,
I stand at the door [of your hearts] and knock:





TR GIy JOB GOD. 61
if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I
will come in to him, and will sup with him;" but
until we are ready to give our hearts to God,-
to set our affections on Him,-we are unwilling
to let Him come in and dwell in the place He made
for Himself to dwell in. Surely, this is robbing
God!-robbing Him of what He made for Him-
self,-of that which He desires to possess above
all things! Oh, how great the wickedness those
commit, who refuse to give God their hearts
How many people there are who would be
ashamed to rob their fellow-creatures, who are
not ashamed to rob their God! How many
people we find, who would not take a farthing,
or a pin, from one of their fellow-creatures, who
do not hesitate to take from God all the affec-
tion which belongs to Him, and rob Him of
those hearts, those affections, which He has
made for Himself!
God once sent a prophet to ask the Jewish
nation a very singular and startling question:
(Mal. iii. 8.) I think it must have surprised
them very much when they heard the question.
It was this:-" Will a man rob God?" We
are not told what the Jews said to the prophet,
when they heard his question. I dare say they
were ready to exclaim, at once, "Why, no!
surely, nobody can be found guilty of such
enormous wickedness!" But, before they had
time to say anything, God answered the question
Himself. He charged the dreadful guilt of this
sin upon them. He said, "Yet ye have robbed
me, even this whole nation." And then, as if
He thought they would ask, in surprise, Why,





62 TEl GItI T GOD.
how have we done this P" He aid, In tithes
and offerings." The tithes, here spoken of,
referred to the tenth part of all their gains,
and the produce of their grounds, which God
required them to present as offerings to Him.
And when they failed to do it, God said they
were robbing Him. And if God called them
robbers because they would not give Him the
money, or the cattle, or the grain, that belonged
to Him, how much more will He consider us as
robbers, if we refuse to give Him our hearts or
affections, which He so earnestly desires, and
which lie made on purpose that they might be
given to Him! Bear this in mind, then, my
dear children, that if we do not set our affections
on God, and love Him better than anything
else, we are robbers; and the worst kind of
robbers too, for we are robbing God. We
ought to give our hearts to God, because He
made them, and has the best right to them.
But, again, we ought to give our hearts to
God, because He can make the best use of
them.
What sort of hearts are ours when we are
born into this world ? Are they good and holy ?
No. What do the Scriptures say of the heart?
They say, "The heart is deceitful above all
things, and desperately wicked."
And what can God do for hearts like these?
Be can make them new. God has promised in
His word, (Ezek. xxxvi. 26,) saying, "A new
heart will I give you, and a new spirit will I
put within you; and I will take away the heart
of stone, and give you a heart of flesh." When





THM em PO 6on. 68
our Saviour was talking with Nicodemun, He
said it was by the power of the Holy Spirit that
God caused His people to be born again, or to
have their hearts made new. And the Apostle
James (i. 18) tells us what are the means which
the Holy Spirit makes use of, in accomplishing
this work. He says, "Of His own will begat
He us, with the word of truth." The truth of
His blessed word-that is, the truth of the
Bible-is what the Spirit employs for this
purpose. Nobody can tell how this great change
takes place. We only know that it is a change
which the Holy Spirit work, and that He
makes use of tg truth of the Bible in order to
bring it aboit. Bnt there is the greatest dif-
ference in the world, my dear children, between
an old heart and a new heart,-between the
heart we have by nature and the heart when it
is made new by the Holy Spirit.
I remember, some time ago, seeing pictures
of these two hearts in a book. In the picture
of the old heart,-the natural heart,-Satan was
represented as sitting in the midst of it, while
frogs, and toads, and lizards, and other reptiles,
were creeping in and oat of it, illustrating the
bad tempers and dispositions which belong to
the natural heart. In the picture of the new
heart, Jesus was represented as sitting in the
midst of it, while light was streaming down
upon it from above, and a dove, representing
God's Holy Spirit, was hovering over it.
The old heart is proud, and cross, and dis-
obedient, and selfish, and obstinate. The new
heart is humble, and gentle, and kind, and





64 TH eGIT son GOD.
obedient, and holy, and good. God has given
us in His word a picture of these two hearts.
You will find it in the fifth chapter of the epistle
to the Galatians. The natural, or old heart, is
there described as being filled with things like
these:-"Adultery, fornication, uncleanness,
lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, vari-
ance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies,
envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and
such like." But the renewed heart is repre-
sented as being filled with the fruits of the
Spirit, which are these:-"Love, joy, peace,
long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meek-
ness, temperance." What a contrast between
these two hearts
It will be better for us, my dear children, to
have our hearts made new than to possess thou.
sands of gold and silver; but none can make
these wicked hearts new but God Himself; and
it is for this reason He desires us to give our
hearts to Him, that He may make them new.
But, again, God will make our hearts cleas
and holy, as well as new. This is another reason
why we should give them to Him. What a sad
thing it is to have a heart that has never been
cleansed! What would you think of a boy who
had lived till he was twelve or fourteen years
old, and never had his face washed? How
frightful he would seem! And yet, my dear
children, how much worse it is to have a heart,
tiat has never been washed or made clean!-a
heart all defiled by sin, and which has been
getting worse and worse every day. But how
many such hearts there are I and they never can
am


- ~- ;~-*





am eGn Po GonD. O6
be washed, and made clean, until we bring them
to God, that He may cleanse them. And the
way in which God cleanses wicked hearts, and
makes them holy, is by His word. We read in
one place in the Bible that it is "with the
washing of water by the word," that He cleanses
wicked hearts and makes them pure and holy.
The meaning of this is, that just as we wash our
hands, or our clothes, when they are dirty, and
make them clean in water, so by His word-
the water of His truth-does God cleanse sinful
hearts and make them pure. Let me give you,
now, an illustration of what I mean by this.
A clergyman was once walking near a brook,
when he observed a woman, washing wool in a
stream. This was done by putting it in a sieve,
and then dipping the sieve into the water re-
peatedly, until the whole became white and
clean.
"He entered into conversation with the
woman, and, from some expression she used
while she was speaking, he asked her if she
knew him.
"' Oh, yes, sir,' she replied; 'and I hope I shall
have reason to bless God through eternity, for
having heard you preach some years ago. Your
sermon was the means of doing me great good.'
"'I rejoice to hear it,' said the clergyman.
' Pray, what was the subject ?'
"' Oh, sir, I cannot recollect that, my memory
is so bad.'
'Well, how, then, can the sermon have done
you so much good, if you don't remember even
what it was about ?'





66 TI eTrr o GOD.
"' Sir,' said the woman,' my mind is like this
sieve. The sieve does not hold the water; but,
s the water runs through, it cleanses the wool.
So my memory does not retain the words I hear,
but as they pass through my heart, by God's
grace, they cleanse it. Now I no longer love sin,
and every day entreat my Saviour to wash me
in His own blood, and cleanse me from all sin."'
Thus it was that this good woman had her
heart cleansed, "with the washing of water by
the word."
Surely, then, dear children, this is a good
reason why we should give our hearts to God,-
because He can make the best use of them:
He can make them clean.
But God will not only make o ir hearts new
and clean; lie will also make them kappy. And
surely this is a good reason why we should give
them to Him. We never can be happy, until
our hearts are made new. Suppose your arm
were broken, or out of joint: could you ever
have any comfort in using it, while in that
state ? Of course not. The more you used
it, the more uncomfortable it would make you
feel. You must get the bone set, or the joint
replaced, if you ever wish to use it again with
comfort. And just so it is with our hearts.
Until they are renewed by God's grace, we can
have no more comfort, no more enjoyment, than
wb could with a broken or a disjointed limb.
And we never shall find any real happiness or
comfort until these hearts are renewed; and it
is because God knows this so well,that He desires
us to bring our hearts and give them to Him.





TW erT rso Gon. 07
Now, God has told us, my dear children,
what He wants of us. He has told us whom
He wants it of. He wants it of each one of you.
Let me, before closing, ask you the question,
Will you give God your heart P Will you begin
to-day, and pray to Him to give you the help of
His Holy Spirit, that your heart may be made
clean and new, and that you may find the happi-
ness and peace which can only be found by those
who know and love Him ?
There is a beautiful collect in the Prayer-
book, which is very suitable for those to use
who desire to give their hearts to God, that they
may be made new and clean. It is the collect
for Ash Wednesday. There we are taught to
say,-
"Almighty and everlasting God, who hatest
nothing that Thou hast made, and dost forgive
the sins of all them that are penitent; create
and make in us new and contrite hearts, that
we, worthily lamenting our sins, and acknow-
ledging our wretchedness, may obtain of Thee,
the God of all mercy, perfect remission and
forgiveness, through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen."
And then there is a very sweet hymn in your
hymn-books, which any one may use as a prayer
who desires to obtain this greatest of all blessings
that we can ask, or God can give. It is this:-

"Oh for a heart to praise my God,-
A heart from sin set free;
A heart that's prinkled with the blood
So freely shed for me.





08 THI ofm 0o GOD.

"A heart realg'd, submiive,, mek
My dear Bedeemer's throne;
Where only Christ i heard to speak,
Where Jesua reigns alone.

"An humble, lowly, contrite heart,
Believing, true, and clean;
Which neither life, nor death, can part
From Him that dwells within.

"A heart in every thought renewed,
And filld with love divine;
Perfect, and right, and pure, and good,-
A copy, Lord, of thine."

May God give to each of us such a heart as
this, for Jesus' sake! Amen.











4t M1onbhrful famp.


"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet."-PsALM exix. 106.
TnE Psalm in which these words are found,
is the longest chapter in the Bible. It is
divided into twenty-two parts, and contains one
hundred and seventy-six verses. The shortest
chapter in the Bible is the next but one before
this,-namely, the one hundred and seventeenth
Psalm, which contains only two verses. Now,
it is worth remembering that the longest and the
shortest chapter in the Bible are found so close
together. This hundred and nineteenth Psalm
is remarkable, not only for its length, but for
other things also. It is all written about the
Bible. The great object of it is to show what a
wonderful and excellent book the Bible is. And
this Psalm is remarkable, also, for the many dif-
ferent names it applies to the Bible. There are
no less than ten different words made use of in
this Psalm to signify the Bible. These are:-
law, commandments, testimonies, statutes, judg-
saents, word, precepts, ordinances, way, truth.
Now, our text is the hundred and fifth verse of
this Psalm. And which of these ten names of
the Bible is found here? "Thy word." Andwhat




90 MBm wonntxn LIAM.
does it my of this word P "Thy word is a lmp
unto my feet." Here the Bible i compared to a
lamp. The object of a lamp is to give light. And
light is needed by those who are in the dark.
And God tells us that this is just our condition
here, in this world. He says that "darkness
covers the earth, and gross darkness the people."
This does not refer to the outward or natural
world, which we see with our bodily eyes. No; for
there we have the glorious sun to give light by
day, and the moon and stars, in all their beauty,
to give light by night. But it refers to the in-
ward, or spiritual world,-to the state in which
our souls are. In the Bible, darkness means
ignorance; and, when it speaks of the people
of the world as being in darkness, it means
that they are in ignorance respecting God,
and heaven, and the things which belong to sal-
vation. And, because the Bible gives us all the
light we have on these matters, it is called
"a lamp." "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet."
God has hung out this blessed lamp in a dark,
dark sky; and its heavenly light shines calmly and
sweetly down on multitudes of poor, wretched
wanderers, who are groping their way amidst
all the horrors of midnight gloom and darkness.
And, while we are thinking on this subject, there
are two questions that it will be well for us to
consider.
The first is:--What sort ofa lamp is the Bible?
The second is:-What should those who have it
do with it?
Now, there is one word which contains all that
need be said in answer to the question, What sort
I





TMS WO Im L LA, XP. 71
of a lamp is the Bible P and this is the word,-
wonderful. The Bible is a wonderful lamp.
Almost everybody has heard the Arabian story of
Aladdin's wonderful lamp. The story says that
this lamp was given to Aladdin by a magician.
When the owner of this lamp wanted anything,
all he had to do was just to rub the lamp, and,
instantly, the thing that he wanted would be all
ready for him. Plenty of money, splendid houses,
beautiful carriages and horses, or anything else,
could be had in a moment, by a simple rub upon
the lamp. This was wonderful indeed; but I
need not tell you there is not a word of truth in
it. There never was such a lamp. And, even
if there had been, the Bible is more wonderful
still than that. I would rather have the Bible,
and the happiness which it brings, than ten
thousand such lamps as the Arabian story tells
of, although every word said of them were true.
Why, one of the very worst things that could
possibly happen to any of us, would be to have
our own way, and be able to get everything
that we wanted. We should make ourselves
perfectly miserable, and ruin ourselves in a
short time, as sure as we are alive. The blessed
thing about the Bible is, that it promises only
those things which are really good for us; and
these it not only promises, but secures, to us.
It is a wonderful lamp. But how is it so?
What is there about this lamp that makes it
wonderful ? There are three things about it which
are wonderful. It is wonderful for the LIoHT it
sheds;-wonderful for the coMFoaT it yields;-
and wonderfulfor the sAJFTY it afords.





72 THI WOIDBEIUL LAMP.
The Bible is a lamp that sheds wonderful iU.
And the light which shines from this lamp is
wonderful in several respects. It is wonderful
for the length of time during which it has been
shining. Most lamps only burn for a few hours
at a time, and then go out. But this lamp has
been shining for almost six thousand years. It
was lighted in the garden of Eden. When
Adam sinned, he brought that darkness on the
world, of which we have before spoken. The
first promise which God gave him about the
Saviour who was afterwards to come, was like
kindling one little thread in the wick of this
lamp. And then, as other parts of the Bible
were written, the lamp burned brighter, and
brighter, till Jesus came, and the New Testa-
ment was finished. And now, for nearly two
thousand years, this lamp has been fully lighted,
and burning all the time. It is a wonderful
lamp, when you think of the length of time
during which it has been shining.
It is wonderful, also, fr the distance to which
it shines. Most lamps, you know, will not shine
very far. If you want to see clearly by a lamp,
you must go pretty close to it. You can see its
light, indeed, for hundreds of yards; and, if it is
lifted up very high, it may be seen even at the
distance of several miles. The lamps on some
lighthouses can be seen as far as twenty or
twenty-five miles. Yet even this is a very trifling
distance. The Bible-God's wonderful lamp-
shines all the way from heaven to earth. We
think it wonderful to have the light of the sun
come to us from a distance of ninety-five millions





THu woran1sL LAXP. 78
of miles; and so it is. But the light of this
lamp shines further still. Nobod knows how
far it is to heaven. But though we cannot
measure the distance, yet in the light of this
lamp, we can see into heaven. It shines so
clearly, that when we look steadily, in its light
the pearly gates, and golden streets, and crystal
streams of heaven, may be distinctly seen.
And not only from heaven to earth does this
lamp shine, but from one end of the earth to
the other, its light is reaching. It is shining
now across the widest oceans, and over the
highest mountains, and into the darkest corners
of the earth. Oh, it is a wonderful lamp for the
distance to which it shines !
And then it is wonderful, also, for the power
with which it ihines. Some lamps burn so feebly,
that the least puff of wind will blow them out.
If you want to carry one of them about, you
must put your hand before it, and go very care-
fully, or you will be left in the dark. And then,
again, if the air is not pure, you often find that
lamps will not burn. Sometimes when people
are going down into wells, or other deep places,
where the air has become impure, the lamps
they carry with them go out in a moment. But
it is very different with God's wonderful lamp.
This shines with so much power that no tempest
that ever beat, no wind that ever blew, has been
able to put it out. Satan and wicked men hate
this lamp, and have tried all they could to stop
its shining, but in vain. They have raised storms
of fierce persecution; and fire, and sword, and
chains, and dungeons, have been er-iloved to
0





74 TKN WONDIXsl LAXP.
stop men from reading, and circulating the
Bible, but they have never succeeded. They
have never been able to put out this wonderful
lamp, or stop it from shining. And, as no wind
is strong enough to blow it out, so no atmosphere
is impure enough to put it out. It has been
carried down into the darkest mines, the deepest
pits, the foulest dens on the earth; and it has
kept on shining there, with a clear, steady light,
till the darkness was all dispelled, and the im-
purity all removed. And when we think of all
these things,-of the length of time during which
it has been shining, of the distance through which,
and the power with which it shines,-we see how
truly it may be called a wonderful lamp. It is
wonderfulfor the LIGHT which it shedr.
But it is wonderful, also, for the coxroa~
which it yields. This lamp yields comfort to peo-
ple under the trials of life; and it yields comfort
intheprospectofdeath. There aretrialsnumerous
and great to be passed through in life. Whether
we are rich or poor, learned or unlearned, we
shall find trials which must be passed through;
and there is nothing like the Bible-God's
wonderful lamp-to give comfort under them.
You know there is a hymn which says,-
"'Ti religion that can rve
Sweetest pleuures while we lie;
'Tis religion mut supply
Solid comfort when we die."
Look at Daniel. He was a great man, a wise
man, an honourable man. Next to the king,
he held the highest position in a nation that was
then the mightiest on the face of the earth.





YTM WONDIrPUL LAMP. 71
But wicked men formed a plot against him.
He was falsely accused of being unfaithful to
the king and country. He was dragged, as it
were, in an instant, from his home and his
honours. He was hurried away, as it was sup.
posed, to a cruel and disgraceful death. The
dark den of hungry lions was opened, and he
was thrust into it. But, fierce as those un-
tamed beasts were, they acted with the gentle-
ness of lambs to him. Their mouths were closed,
their violence was restrained, by an unseen, but
mighty power; and they hurt him not. Still,
Daniel's position was one of great trial. But he
had God's word to think of. In the darkness of
that dreadful den, this wonderful lamp was
shining in upon Daniel's mind, and be found
comfort from it.
Or look at Paul. God had sent him to preach
the gospel. He was going about telling every-
body, as he had opportunity, what a glorious
Saviour Jesus is, and what great blessings He
bestows on all who love and fear Him. But
there is a wicked ruler, who dislikes to have
Paul preach of Jesus. He bids him stop his
preaching. Paul will not do this. Then the
ruler sends an officer to take him. He orders
him to be beaten with rods on his bare back,
till the flesh is torn and mangled, and the blood
flows down in streams from the cruel wounds.
Then he is loaded with chains, and thrust into a
wretched dungeon. Ah, what a trial was that
And how did he bear it? Did he pass the
night in crying and groaning over his hard lot P
No, indeed. He had God's wonderful lamp





98 m worbmaw=a z.mr.
with him, and it shone so brightly into him
heart, and made him so happy, that he forgot his
mangled, bleeding back; and, a if it had been a
palace instead of a prison that he was occupying,
he sang out the gladnew of his heart in psalms
and hymns, till all the prisoners heard him.
But here is a case from our own times.
There is an old man who is a cripple. He lives all
alone, in a poor, miserable hovel. It is so old
and shattered, that the wintry winds sweep
freely through it. The roof is so out of repair,
that the melting snows and drenching rains
come dripping down in every part, except one
little corner, which is occupied by the poor
cripple's bed of straw. We can hardly think
of any situation more wretched and uncomfort-
able than this. Yet that poor cripple is a real
Christian. He loves Jesus, and has a hope of
heaven. Would you like to know how he feels
in that lonely and cheerless hut P Well, a Chris-
tian friend and neighbour is going in to make a
morning call. It is a raw, cold, December day.
The visitor opens the door, and says to the poor
sufferer, Well, John, how do you do, this
morning P"
"Oh, sir," he replies, "I am sitting under
His shadow with great delight, and His fruit is
sweet to my taste." He meant to say, by this,
that he felt the presence of his Saviour, and
that this gave him peace and joy, apidst all his
poverty and pain. God's wonderful lamp was
shining in that lowly hovel, and the poor sufferer
living there was comforted by it under the trials
of life.





Nu woxaDsnnU U AiS. LM
But we need comfort is th prt pect &of4
as well as under the trials of life; and this won-
derful lamp can give it to us here also. It is a
solemn thing to die ;-to bid farewell to all the
familiar scenes of earth;-to be separated from
all the dear friends we have known and loved
here;-to lie down in the silent grave, and
moulder into dust;-to enter upon the awful
and untried scenes of the eternal world;-to
stand before the judgment-seat of Christ, and
have our condition fixed in happiness, or misery,
for everlasting ages;-oh, there is something un-
speakably solemn in all this! Who can think
of it, and not feel his spirit awed within him P
Ah! we need comfort in the prospect of death,
more than we can possibly need it at any other
time. And we must have it, too, or we shall be
badly off indeed. Yet there is nothing that can
give us real, substantial, satisfying comfort,
except the Bible.
This wonderful lamp was lighted, on purpose
that it might shine on the darkness of the grave.
When it does shine, there is comfort in the pros-
pect of death; when it does not shine, there is
none. Here is a striking illustration of this.
Two Hindoos are dying. One of them is still a
heathen; he is without this lamp. The other
is a Christian; he has it. Now, mark the differ.
ence between them. The heathen Hindoo feels
that death is approaching fast. He sends for
the Brahmin, his priest, and asks him, with great
eagerness, What will become of me when I
die?" "At your death," said the Brahmin,
"your spirit will enter the body of some reptile.
u 2





Y8 TH1 WONDIMRUL LAM .
and live there, a long period of time." And,
when that is over, what will become of meP"
asked the dying man again. "Then," said the
Brahmin, you will pass into the body of some
animal for another long period." "And what
then ?" asked the poor man. The Brahmin led
him through a long series of changes, reaching
over some thousands of years. At every step in
the progress, he was met by the earnest inquiry
of the dying man, "And what then F" He felt
that thousands of years were as nothing to eter-
nity. The Brahmin got to the end of all his
changes, and still the cry met him, What then ?
But he could not answer it. He had nothing
more to say; and the poor dying heathen, with-
out hope or comfort, was compelled to take a
leap in the dark, and find out the answer to his
question in his own sad experience. God's
wonderful lamp had never shone upon him, to
give him comfort in the prospect of death, and
therefore he could find none.
But another Hindoo is about to die. He is a
young man connected with the mission-school.
There he has learned to read the Bible, and it
has taught him the way of salvation. He feels
that his last hour has come. He calls one of
his friends to his bedside, and, with a counte-
nance beaming with peace and joy, he exclaims,
" Sing, brother, sing!" What shall I sing P"
asks his companion. Sing of salvation through
the blood of Jesus. Sing, Thanks be to Him
who giveth us the victory, through our Lord
Jesus Christ;" and then he sank back upon his
couch, and died. He had this wonderful lamp.





2 WONDUIITL Lr t M. 7T
It had been shining in upon his soul; sad its
lear shining gave him comfort in the prospect
of death.
But this lamp is wonderful for t*A OArTT
which it qforda. Persons who have to go into
coal-mines are exposed to many dangers. One
of these arises from a particular kind of gas,
which is sometimes found there, and which, the
very moment it comes in contact with the flame
of a lamp or candle, explodes like gunpowder,
burning and destroying all persons within its
reach. Hundreds of lives have been lost in this
way. Some years ago, a wise and good man,
whose name was Sir Humphry Davy, invented a
lamp, for the purpose of guarding against the
danger of explosion from this gas. It had fine
wire gauze, arranged round the flame of the
lamp, in such a way, that it would give notice to
the miners of the presence of this dangerous gas,
and, at the same time, keep the flame of the
lamp from touching it, till they had escaped from
the danger. It is called Davy's safety-lamp,
and has proved a great comfort and blessing
to miners. It has saved a great many hundred
lives.
Now, this world is like a great coal-mine,and
all its inhabitants are like miners. The sins,
that abound here, are like this dangerous gas;
and when they come in contact with our evil
passions, violent explosions are often produced,
and great damage is done. We need a safety-
lamp, to show us where the dangers lie, and
help us to escape from them. And just such a
lamp we have. The Bible is a safety-lamo






so80 9 woRrn r. LLar.
which God has invented for this very purpose.
If we carry it with us, as we move about in this
great mine, and use it carefully, it will afford us
entire safety. It will always warn us when
danger is nigh, and show us how we may escape
it. This is just what our text means, when it
says, "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet." It
is a wonderful lamp. It is wonderful for many
things, but for nothingmore than for the safety
it afords to those who use it rightly. Such
persons are said to be "under the shadow of
God's wings;" and "in the hollow of His hand."
What a position of safety this is! This was
the position which David occupied when he said,
"The Lord is my light, and my salvation: whom
shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my
life; of whom shall I be afraid?" He knew
that an eye, which never slumbers, was watching
over him; and that an arm, which never wearies,
was stretched out for his defence. And this is
just as true of us, as it was of David, if we are
walking by the light of this wonderful lamp.
Then, the words spoken in Psa. cxxi. 5-8, refer
to us, and show the safety we enjoy :-" The
Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon
thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee b
day, nor the moon by night. The Lord sha
preserve thee from all evil: He shall preserve
thy soul. The Lord shall preserve thy going out
and thy coming in, from this time forth, and
even for evermore." And when we think of the
light which this lamp sheds, of the comfort
which it yields, and of the safety which it
affords, we see how truly it may be called a


~-~--~~ ---i-- I~*-----n~





T1 woxmsU. L.AxP. 81
wonderfullamp. This answers our first question:'
-What sort of a lamp is the Bible P
The second question can receive a much
shorter answer. This question is:-What should
those who hae this lamp do with it? They
should do two things with it:-They should se
it theAnelves, and ty should send it to others.
We should use this lamp ourselves. This is
what it is given to us for. We all have need to
use it. It is shining about us, and into our
hearts, on purpose that we may see the greatness
of our sins, and then come to Jesus to get rid of
them. This wonderful lamp can do us no good
unless it shows us the way to Jesus, that we
may learn to love and serve Him. We may as
well be without it,-nay, we had much better be
without it, than fail to make a right use of it.
To neglect to use this lamp aright, is the greatest
six we can commit. We shall be condemned
to everlasting destruction for this very thing.
Jesus said, when He was on earth, This is the
condemnation," (that means, this is the thing
for which men will be condemned,) that light
is come into the world, and men loved darkness,
rather than light, because their deeds were evil."
Then let us, my dear children, use this lamp to
find out the way to heaven; and, when we see
that way, let us strive to walk in it. This is the
right use to make of this lamp for ourselves.
But then we must send it to others, as well as
make a right use of it ourselves. There was a
fisherman, once, whose hut was situated on a
high and rock-bound coast. Near it, there was
a snug cove, with a smooth, sandy beach, where





82 TEH WONDIBrUL LAMP.
he was accustomed to draw up his little boat,
and from which he went forth, day by day, to
engage in his toilsome occupation on the waters
of the stormy sea. One day he went out, as
usual, to spend the day in fishing. He toiled
on, with encouraging success, till towards the
close of the afternoon; when, looking up to the
sky, he saw threatening signs of an approaching
storm. Immediately he hauled up his lines,
resolving, if possible, to reach his home before
the gathering tempest should burst upon him.
But he had a long distance to go, and the wind
was ahead, and the sea was rough, and the storm
came on fast, and the day was almost gone.
Yet, with a brave and trusting heart, he turned
the bow of his boat in the right direction, and
began to row towards home. Right manfully
did he bend upon his oars, and his boat flew
rapidly over the white-capped billows. But
darker and darker grew the heavens above him;
and soon all trace of daylight had disappeared.
The outline of the coast had faded from his view,
and he could no longer see any of those well-
known land-marks, by which he was accustomed
to direct his course. He went as near the coast
as he could, without being dashed against its
jagged rocks. And then he rowed on, till he
was exhausted; but no sign of his hut, or of
the little cove near it, could he discover. The
storm raged more fiercely, and the night grew
darker. Hope died away within him, and death
stared him m the face. He expected every
moment that his frail boat would be swallowed
up in the stormy waters. But, just then, afaint





THU WONDERFUL LAMP. 88
My of light met his eye. It renewed his strength.
He rowed on more heartily. Very soon he found
that it proceeded from the window of his own
little hut. It guided him to the cove, which he
was accustomed to enter. He drew his boat up
safely on the sand; and, grateful for his own de-
liverance, he trimmed the lamp before he went
to bed that night, and filled it with oil, and set it
in the window of his humble dwelling, that its
friendly light might shine out upon the stormy
sea, and perhaps guide some other tempest-
tossed voyager to a place of safety. And as
long as he lived, he continued this practice. It
was very proper that he should do this. He
made a right use of the lamp himself, and
then he tried to extend the benefit of it to
others.
And this is just what we should do. We
have God's wonderful lamp. It is shining all
about our path. It shows us how we may sail
over life's stormy sea, so as to reach the haven
of enduring rest and safety at last. But there
are multitudes of our fellow-creatures, who are
tossed on this tempestuous sea, without a single
ray of light to guide their way. What is our
duty P Should we not send this wonderful
lamp to them ? This is all they need. It is
abundantly able to guide them to the only place
where they can find safety. And when we pre-
sent our offerings to the missionary cause, when
we give our money to send the Bible to the
benighted heathen, and when we pray to God to
bless our offerings, then we are holding up this
wonderful lamp, that those who are in darkness






84 TH woDBirUm L"x.
may see its light, and follow its guidance, and be
happy for ever. There are two things, my dew
children, that you should earnestly pray for.
One is, that God may give you grace to make a
right use of this lamp yourselves; and the other
is, that He would help you to do all you can to
send it to others. When Jesus was on earth,
He said to the people, While ye have the light,
walk in the light, lest darkness come upon you."
And He says the same to us. If we neglect to
use this lamp properly ourselves, we commit a
great sin, and expose ourselves to great danger.
And so we do, if we neglect to send it to others.
For there is a passage of Scripture which says,
"To him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it
not, to him it is sin." May God enable us both
to "perceive and know what things" we "ought
to do; and also" give us "grace and power
faithfully to fulfil the same" for Jesus' sakel
Amen.










9 t |i>'s oHrtm S.



Even a child may be known by his doing."-Pfov. xz. 11
THzER are many different ways in which we
may know a person. Sometimes we know
persons by light. Almost every day in the
week, I see a poor, blind, coloured man, begging,
and offering matches for a:e. I can see him
half a square off, as I go up and down the street.
And if I should see him anywhere else, I could
tell him in a moment. I know him by eight.
But where he lives, or whether he has any
family, or what sort of a man he is, I cannot
tell. I only know him by sight.
Sometimes we know a person by name. Every-
body in America knows Franklin Pierce, the
President of the United States, by name, though
hundreds of thousands of people have never
seen him. In the same way, almost everybody
there knows Barnum, the great showman, though
very few would know him by sight if he should
appear before them.
And sometimes we know persons by detorp-
tion. If you should read an advertisement of a
person who had committed a robbery, and if he
were represented as having red hair, being




86 THB CHILD'S 1FOmTU1 TOtD.
light-complexioned, crous-eyed, with a large
wart on his nose, short of stature, and limping
on his left foot, although you had never seen
the man before, yet, from reading this account
of his appearance, you would know him, from
desriptson, as soon as you saw him.
And then, again, persons are known by their
action; that is, by certain things that they
have done. In this way we all know Noah, as
the man who built the ark. We know Moses,
as the man who led the Israelites out of Egypt,
and through the wilderness. So we know David,
as the man who killed the giant; and Daniel, as
the man who was thrown into the lion's den.
And so everybody knows Christopher Columbus,
as the man who discovered America; and George
Washington, as the man who saved his country;
and Benedict Arnold, as the traitor who basely
betrayed it. And when we read history, we
learn to know the character of the different
persona spoken of, by the things they have
done. And this is the way of knowing persons
that Solomon speaks of in our text. It is not
by sight, nor by name, nor by description, but
by actions. And children may be known in
this way as well as grown persons. The wise
man tells us here, that "even a child may be
known by his doings."
Now, there are two questions to be considered
in connexion with this text.
The firat is:- What is meant by "doings" hereP
The second is:--What may be "known" qfa
heild in this wy ?
Now, I suppose, when Solomon used the





5 n canID's roTmrh TOLb. a7
word doings" here, in reference to a child, he
meant to speak of three things:-namely, #te
tempers he indfiur; the hobit. hs form; and
the ompoay he p.
The temper indulged by every young peron,
constitute part of those doings by which he may
be known. We all know what temper means.
It is a word we use to express the kind of
feelings we have towards those who are about
us. And our tempers have very much to do
with making up our characters. Sometimes we
look at persons, or things, through something
which makes them appear very different from
what they really are. If I look at you through
a piece of green glass, you appear to be green.
And if I look at you through a red piece, you
will look red. But this does not prove that you
are green, or red, does it ? Of course not. It
only proves that I am looking at you, and judging
of you, in a wrong way. But when we look
at persons, and judge of them, through their
tempers, we are sure to be right. Then we see,
and know, just what they are. We are all just
what our tempers make us. Now, there is a
much difference in the tempers of children, a
there is in the colour of their hair, or their
eyes, or in the complexion of their countenances.
Some children have crou tempers. If you
speak to them, you are sure to get some sharp,
surly answer. They snap and snarl like some
ill-natured dog. If you ask them to do the
smallest favour, you are sure to be refused; and
that, too, in a rough, ungracious manner. Other
children have kind tempers. They always have





88 m x CHILD'S lroaln TOLD.
something pleasant to say, when they are spoken
to. They are ready to do everything in their
power to accommodate others. They are always
striving to make those about them comfortable.
They are like little sunbeams, and diffuse a
cheerful, happy light, wherever they go.
Some children have fretful tempers. They
are always finding fault with something or
other. They fret about the weather. It is
either too hot, or too cold, too wet, or too dry.
They fret about their clothes. Here is one of
these fretters getting dressed. Just listen to
him a moment. He takes up his coat. "Such
a coat !" he murmurs; who ever saw the like ?
About half a mile too big!" Observe, fretters
never tell the truth. And so he goes on with
everything he takes up. His stockings are too
thin; and his shoes too thick. One thing is
too long, and another too short. One is too
tight, and another too loose. These children
fret about their food, too, as well as their clothes.
It is either done too much, or not done enough.
It is either too coarse, or too fine, or too some-
thing or other that must be complained of.
Other children have patient tempers. They
never fret about the weather; because they feel
that God, who sends it, knows better than they
do what kind to send, and that what He sends
must be best. They never fret about their
clothes; because they know that hundreds of
people are wearing clothes much worse than
their's. And they never fret about their food,
however bad it may be, because they know that
it would be far worse to have none.




OX onIL's rOBTsOI T01L. 80'
There were two gardeners, ones, whose crope
of pea had been killed by a frost. Oneof them
fretted and grumbled, and maid nobody was so
unfortunate as he was. Visiting his neighbour,
some time after, he cried out, in astonishment,
What a fine crop of peasl What are theseP"
"These are what I sowed while you were
fretting," said the other. "Why, don't you
ever fret ?" Yes; but I put it off till I have
repaired the mischief." "But then you have
no need to fret at all." That's very true," said
the other; "and that's just the reason why I
put it off."
Some children have eMViA tempers. They
always think of themselves first, and help them-
selves to the best of everything. A little girl
belonging to this class, whose name was Mary,
was out visiting once, with her mother. She
had a little brother, called Charlie, who was left
at home. The lady, at whose house they were
visiting, gave Mary two peaches. One of them
was a nice plump, mellow, juicy peach, that
would make your mouth water to look at it.
The other was a poor-looking one, with a great
spot on the side, showing that it was half rotten.
Mary began at once, very eagerly, to eat up the
ripe peach. Presently her mother said to her,
"Mary, my child, are you not going to save
some for Charlie P" Oh, yes, ma," said Mary;
"I am saving the rotten on for Ckarli I"
People who indulge this selfish feeling while
they are young, will find it remain with them
when they grow up. There is one place, in the
Bible, in which God complained of the Jews,





40 Ta caHLD's ]oaTUoO TO.
that they kept the best of the lambs and sheep
in their focks, and offered Him "the lame and
blind." The people who would do this, when
they are grown up, are the very ones who,
when young, would "keep the rotten one for
Charlie." And these sort of people are to be
found among us, as well as among the Jews.
lok at that plate, in which the Charity-
collection has just been gathered. See; there's
a counterfeit coin. Nobody would take it in
trade. But, though not good enough to be
offered in payment for meat or potatoes, some-
body thought it good enough to be offered to
God. I never see one of these bad coins, in a col-
lection, without thinking, "Ah! that was given
by one who has been accustomed, from childhood,
'to keep the rotten one for Charlie.'"
Other children have generous tempers. They
always like to share what they have with others.
If they have a cake, or a pie, or something very
nice to eat, they do not sneak away into a
corner, and eat it all themselves: they love to
go among their brothers and sisters, or com-
panions, and share it with them. They feel
happier for it; and have much more enjoyment
of the part they do eat in this way, than if they
had eaten it all. It is said of Alfred, the great
and good king of England, that, during the
time in which he was driven by the Danes from
his throne, and was wandering in disguise and
poverty, he was reduced so low, that part of a
oaf of bread was all his supply. While in this
state, a hungry beggar approached him, and
implored relief. The generous monarch opened


L




e m can rs emirrs oLD. n1
his wallet, and shared freely his last mosel with
one of the humblest of his subjects. And he
who could act thus, as a man, must have been
accustomed to act so when a child. These
tempers, indulged, are part of the "doings" of a
child by which he may be known.
But, again, by the habits h form, as well as
by the tempers he indulges, a child may 'be
known. By habits, we mean the ways in which
we are accustomed to do things. Somebody
once said that "man is a bundle of habits."
And this is just as true of boys and girls, as it
is of men and women. Indeed, it is while we
are young that we tie up this bundle. And as
it is a bundle we carry with us all our lives, we
should be very careful what we put into it.
Some children form idle habits. They love to
lie in bed late in the morning. It is hard to
waken them, and get them up; and when they
are up, it is hard to get them to work, or study,
or do anything but play or loiter about. Children
of this sort remind one very much of the farmer's
horse. This horse, the farmer said, had only
two faults. One was, that he was very hard to
catch. The other was, that when he was caught,
he wasn't good for anything.
Other children have industrious habits. They
rise early; they study hard; and learn their
lessons well. If they are set to work, they do
it cheerfully; they are not easily tirbd, but keep
on until the work is done. People with these
habits always succeed in life. There is no
difficulty which industry has not conquered.
One day, a load of coal was thrown down before




02 Twa oxiLD's rostuis eOL.
the door of a cellar, in which a poor mily lived.
A little girl went out, with quite a small shovel,
and began to shovel it up. "My little child,"
mid a gentleman who was pseing by," you can't
get al that coal in with your small shovel."
" Oh yes, I can, sir," said the little girl, "ifl
only work lob enough."
There was a poor boy, once, who resolved to
get an education. He had to work hard all day,
and, when evening came, he had no place to
read in, and no light to read by; so he used
to take his book, and go into the street, and
stand by some shop window, and study in the
light that shone from it. And sometimes, when
the shops were closed before he got through,
he would climb up a' lamp-post and hold
on with one hand, while he held his book
with the other. It is not surprising that he
became a man who was distinguished for his
learning.
Some children form sreles habiUt. They
never put things in their proper places, but lay
them down and leave them just where they may
happen to be. Then, when they want them,
they can't tell where to find them. Suppose
you are visiting in a family where several children
live, who have formed careless habits. The
morning-hour for going to school has come.
There is a great noise, and confusion in the
hall. You go to your room-door, to find out
what is the matter, and you hear sounds like
these:-" Where's my hat P" "Where's my
bonnet " Who has taken my boots P" "Some-
body's always taking my things. I do wish





Et OILD'I ]ronBRI TOLD. OS
people would mind their own business, and let
my things alone!" Poor children Who bu
been taking their things, and tearing them so P
Nobody at all. Their things are just where
they left them; and they find them presently,
one in the parlour, another in the dining-room,
and another in the kitchen. Now, there is no
telling, my dear children, how much evil some-
times results from the formation of careless
habits. Several years ago a dreadful explosion,
of gunpowder, took place at Wilmington, in
Delaware. Three large waggons were carrying
powder, in kegs, from Mr. Dupont's mills on
the Brandywine, to a place on the Delaware.
As they were passing the outskirts of the city,
and while just opposite the beautiful mansion
of Bishop Lee, there was a flash,-a tremen-
dous noise,-and all was over. In an instant,
the waggons, the horses, the drivers, and all
about them, were blown to atoms. Nobody
could ever tell exactly how it took place. But,
if the truth were known, I dare say it would be
found that an act of carelessness was the cause
of it. Suppose, for instance, that a cooper of
careless habits had made one of the kegs. While
making the keg, he took up one of the staves,
which had a little hole in it. lie was too careless
to notice it, or to mind it, if it was noticed. He
put that stave into the keg. The keg was taken
to the mill, and filled with powder. The waggon
is loaded. That keg is put in. The motion of
the waggon shakes the powder through the
hole. Presently a spark, either struck by the
hone's shoe, or coming from some other source,




M wa orC D's oatrs owasu.
lihts on the scattered grains, and the awful
muchief is done. How many a calamity, equally
terrible, has been caused by a single sat of
carelesme! I
Other children form carefid dits. They
never waste anything. In regard to time, and
money, and everything else, they remember our
Saviour's words, "Gather up the fragments,
that nothing be lost." They put things i their
proper places, and always know where to find
them. Their rule is:-" A lace for everything,
and everything in its place. It is an excellent
rule, and attention to it will work wonders.
Those who form habits of this kind, are almost
sure to be rich and useful, when they grow up.
Two gentlemen were once engaged in procurng
subecriptions to the Bible Society. As they
passed by a ine large house, they heard the
gentleman who lived there, reproving the servants
in the kitchen for extravagance, in throwing
away the ends of candles. Well," said one of
the collectors to the other, it's not worth while
to stop here; for a man who is so careful about
the ends of his candles will hardly give anything
for the Bible." "It will do no harm to try,
said the other. They went in, and were agree-
ably surprised at receiving a very large sub.
scrption. Sir," said one of the collectors, "the
amount of your subscription greatly surprises
us; for when we heard you, a few moments
ago, reproving your servants for not saving the
ends of candles, we thought it hardly worth
while to stop." "Ah I gentlemen," said he,
" it is by the habit of carefulness in little things,





M mIrp'. eMJU seas. o
tha I am able to give lrgTl to the Bible
Society, and other good aase."
A young man once wit into the city of Pari,
to meek a situation. He hd letter of recom-
mendation to a large baning-etblishment.
He called on the gentleman hho was at the
head of it, full of hope and condence that he
should find employment. The gentlnan heard
what he had to sy, and looked over his letters
hastily, and then handed them back to him,
saying, We have nothing for you to do, sir."
The young man felt his heart sink within him.
He was ready to burst into tears. But there
was no help for it. So he made his bow, and
retired. But, as he w passing in front of the
building, there was a pin lying on the pavement.
He stopped, stooped down, and picked it up,
and then stuck it carefully away, under the
bosom of his coat. Now, it happened, that
the gentleman with whom he had just been
speaking, was standing at the window, and saw
what took place. In an instant, the thought
occurred to him that the young man who had
such habits of carefulness as to stop, in such a
moment of disappointment, and pick up a pin,
would make a useful business man. He sent
immediately, and called him back. He gave
him an humble situation in the establishment.
From that he rose by degrees, till he became
principal partner m the concern, and, even-
tuy, a man of immense wealth, and the chief
banker in Paris. Here was the case of a young
man, who, through habits of carefulness, may be
sid to have mads Uiortm by ,pin.




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