"C" Feathers

CARNAL SECURITY A number of men are upstairs in a house, amusing themselves with a game of cards. What is that? The window is red! What is that cry in the streets? "The house is on fire!" says one. "Oh," answers another, "shuffle the cards again, let us finish the game; we have plenty of time." "Fire! Fire! Fire!" The cry rises more sharply from the streets, but the gamblers continue their game. One of them swaggeringly boasts, "It's all right, my brave boys, yon door leads to the roof, and we can get out at the last minute. I know the way over the leads—it's all right, go ahead with the game." Presently one of them nervously enquires, "Are you sure that we can get through that door?" and he goes to try, but finds it locked. "Never mind," is the answer,

"I have the key." "But are you sure you have the key?" "Oh, yes! I am sure I have, here it is; try it for yourself, and do not be such a coward, man; try it." The man tries the key. "It will not turn," says he. "Let me try," says his friend. He puts it in the lock, but lo, it will not turn! "O God.'" he shrieks, "it's the wrong key.'" Now, sirs, will ye go back to your game again? No, now they will strain every nerve, and labour with might and main to open the door, only to find that it is all too late for them to escape. So many of our hearers are saying, "Oh, yes! What the preacher says is well enough, hut you know we can repent whenever we like; we have power to obtain the grace of God whenever we please; we know the way; have we not been told over and over again simply to trust Christ?—and we can do that whenever we please—we are safe enough." Ah, but suppose you cannot believe whenever you please? Suppose the day shall come when you shall call upon the Lord, and he will not answer; when you shall stretch out your hand, but no man shall regard! Suppose you should one day cry, "Lord, Lord, open to us," and the answer should be, "I never knew you, depart, ye cursed!" O procrastinator, if you think that you can repent now, why do you not repent now? You believe that you have full power to do so! Oh, do it, do it, and do not trifle with that power, lest when the power is gone, you find, too late, that in one sense you never possessed it!

CENSORIOUSNESS—Who most Guilty of

Pedley, who was a well-known natural simpleton, was wont to say, "God help the fool." None are more ready to pity the folly of others than those who have a small share of wit themselves. "There is no love among Christians," cries the man who is destitute of true charity. "Zeal has vanished," exclaims the idle talker. "O for more consistency," groans out the hypocrite. "We want more vital godliness," protests the false pretender. As in the old legend, the wolf preached against sheep-stealing, so very many hunt down those sins in others which they gladly shelter in themselves.

CHANGE—Love of

It will be found that they are the weakest-minded and the hardest-hearted men that most love variety and change; for the weakest-minded are those who both wonder most at things new, and digest worst things old; in so far that everything they have lies rusty, and loses lustre from want of use. Neither do they make any stir among their possessions, nor look over them to see what may be made of them, nor keep any great store, nor are householders with storehouses of things new and old; but they catch at the new-fashioned garments, and let the moth and thief look after the rest; and the hardest-hearted men are those that least feel the endearing and binding power of custom, and hold on by no cords of affection to any shore, but drive with the waves that cast up mire and dirt.—John Ruskin.

CHARITY—Spies out the Good Points in all

Mr. Jameson says, "The following beautiful epilogue had a powerful effect on my mind:"—"Jesus," says the story, "arrived one evening at the gates of a certain city, and he sent his disciples forward to prepare supper while he himself, intent on doing good, walked through the streets into the market-place. And he saw, at the corner of the market, some people gathered together looking at some object on the ground; and he drew near to see what it might be. It was a dead dog with a halter round his neck, by which he appeared to have been dragged through the dirt; and a viler, a more abject, a more unclean thing never met the eyes of man. And those who stood by looked on with abhorrence. 'Faugh!' said one, stopping his nose,' it pollutes the air!' 'How long,' said another, 'shall this foul beast offend our sight?' 'Look at his torn hide,' said a third, 'one could not even cut a shoe out of it.' 'And his cars,' said a fourth, 'all draggled and bleeding.' 'No doubt,' said a fifth, 'he has been hanged for thieving.' And Jesus heard them, and looking down compassionately on the dead creature, he said, 'Pearls are not equal to the whiteness of his teeth.' Then the people turned to him with amazement, and said among themselves, 'Who is this? This must be Jesus of Nazareth, for only he could find something to pity and approve even in a dead dog.' And, being ashamed, they bowed their heads before him, and went each on his way."

"I can recall at this hour the vivid, yet softening and pathetic, impression left on my fancy by this old Eastern story. It gave me pain in my conscience, for it seemed thenceforward so easy and so vulgar to say satirical things, and so much nobler to be benign and merciful; and I took the lesson so home that I was in great danger of falling into the opposite extreme—of seeking the beautiful even in the midst of the corrupt and the repulsive."

CHILDREN—Perseverance Needed in Teaching In dibbling beans the old practice was to put three in each hole: one for the worm, one for the crow, and one to live and produce the crop. In teaching children, we must give line upon line, and precept upon precept, repeating the truth which we would inculcate, till it becomes impossible for the child to forget it. We may well give the lesson once expecting the child's frail memory to lose it; twice, reckoning that the devil, like an ill bird, will steal it; thrice, hoping that it will take root downward, and bring forth fruit upward to the glory of God.

CHILDREN—their Future In the early French revolution, the schoolboys of Bourges, from twelve to seventeen years of age, formed themselves into a Band of Hope. They wore a uniform, and were taught drill. On their holidays, their flag was unfurled, displaying in shining letters the sentence—"Tremblez, Tyrans, Nous grand-irons!" (Tremble, Tyrants, we shall grow up!). Without any charge of spurious enthusiasm, we may, in imagination, hear the shouts of confidence and courage, uttered by the young Christians of the future, as they say, "Tremble, O enemy, we are growing up for God!"—Mr. S. R. Pattison's Address at the Meeting of the Baptist Union, 1869.

CHRIST—his Eye our Stimulus

There is a touching fact related in a history of a Highland chief, of the noble house of M'Gregor, who fell wounded by two balls, at the battle of Prestonpans. Seeing their chief fall, the clan wavered, and gave the enemy an advantage. The old chieftain, beholding the effect of his disaster, raised himself up on his elbow, while the blood gushed in streams from his wounds, and cried aloud, "I am not dead, my children; I am looking at you to see you do your duty." These words revived the sinking courage of his brave Highlanders. There was a charm in the fact that they still fought under the eye of their chief. It roused them to put forth their mightiest energies, and they did all that human strength could do to turn and stem the dreadful tide of battle. And is there not a charm to thee, O believer, in the fact that you contend in the battle-field of life under the eye of your Saviour? Wherever you are, however you are oppressed by foes, however exhausted by the stern strife with evil, the eye of Christ is fixed most lovingly upon thee. Nor is Jesus the only observer of your conduct. You are also "a spectacle unto angels." You are "compassed about by a cloud of witnesses." Human and angelic minds, animated, the good by love, and the evil by hate, are the spectators of your deeds. Thus is the theatre of your life made sublime; and you contend for salvation under circumstances sufficiently grand, and with results before you sufficiently awful, to arouse your most latent powers, and to stimulate you to strive bravely, vigorously, and perseveringly even unto victory—D. Wise.

CHRIST—To be Followed above all In a letter of Abelard to Eloisa, the following paragraph occurs:—"I will be no philosopher, if so be I must needs fight against St. Paul; I will be no Aristotle, if so be I be separated from Christ." If all students were thus resolved to hold with the great Teacher at all hazards, we should not see such frequent victims of "philosophy, falsely so called." Unlettered ignorance is a great evil, but learned ignorance is worse, and such is all learning which decoys the heart from Jesus.

CHRIST—Love of, Proved In the French revolution, a young man was condemned to the guillotine, and shut up in one of the prisons. He was greatly loved by many, but there was one who loved him more than all put together. How know we this? It was his own father, and the love ho bore his son was proved in this way: when the lists were called, the father, whose name was exactly the same as the son's, answered to the name, and the father rode in the gloomy tumbril out to the place of execution, and his head rolled beneath the axe instead of his son's, a victim to mighty love. See here an image of the love of Christ to sinners; for thus Jesus died for the ungodly.

CHRIST—the Soul's only Defence

There is an ancient parable which says that the dove once made a piteous complaint to her fellow birds, that the hawk was a most cruel tyrant, and was thirsting for her blood. One counselled her to keep below—but the hawk can stoop for its prey; another advised her to soar aloft—but the hawk can mount as high as she. A third bade her hide herself in the woods, but alas! these are the hawk's own estates, where he holds his court. A fourth recommended her to keep in the town, but there man hunted her, and she feared that her eyes would be put out by the cruel falconer to make sport for the hawk. At last one told her to rest herself in the clefts of the rock, there she would be safe, violence itself could not surprise her there. The meaning is easy; reader, do not fail to catch it, and to act upon it. The dove is thy poor defenceless soul. Satan is thy cruel foe; wouldst thou not escape from him? Thy poverty cannot protect thee, for sin can stoop to the poor man's level and devour him in the cottage, and drag him to hell from a hovel. Thy riches are no security, for Satan can make these a snare to thee, and if thou shouldst mount ever so high, the bird of prey can follow thee and rend thee in pieces! The busy world with all its cares cannot shelter thee, for here it is that the great enemy is most at home; he is the prince of this world, and seizes men who find their joys therein as easily as a kite lays hold upon a sparrow. Nor can retirement secure you, for there are sins peculiar to quietude, and hell's dread vulture soars over lonely solitudes to find defenceless souls, and rend them in pieces. There is but one defence. O may you and I fly to it at once! Jesus was wounded for sin; faith in him saves at once and for ever.

CHRIST JESUS—the Marrow of Theology The late venerable and godly Dr. Archibald Alexander, of Princeton, United States, had been a preacher of Christ for sixty years, and a professor of divinity for forty. He died on the 22nd October, 1851. On his death-bed, he was heard to say to a friend, "All my theology is reduced to this narrow compass—Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners."

CHRIST—our only Hope ON a huge cross by the side of an Italian highway hung a hideous caricature of the Beloved of our souls, who poured out his life for our redemption. Out of reverence to the living Christ we turned aside, disgusted from the revolting image, but not until we had espied the words Spes unica, in capitals over its head. Here was truth emblazoned on an idol. Yes, indeed, Jesus, our now exalted, but once crucified Lord is the sole and only hope of man. Assuredly, O Lord Jesus, thou art spes unica to our soul.

"Other refuge have we none, Hangs our helpless soul on thee."

We found this diamond in the mire of superstition: does it sparkle any the less?

CHRIST—our only Best My heart can have no rest, unless it leans on Jesus Christ wholly, and then it feels his peace. But I am apt to leave my resting-place, and when I ramble from it, my heart will quickly brew up mischief. Some evil temper now begins to boil, or some care would fain perplex me, or some idol wants to please me, or some deadness or some lightness creeps upon my spirit, and communion with my Saviour is withdrawn. When these thorns stick in my flesh, I do not try, as heretofore, to pick them out with my own needle, but carry all complaints to Jesus, casting every care upon him. His office is to save, and mine to look for help.—John Berridge.

CHRIST—Riches of his Grace

Sir Richard Whittington entertained King Henry V. at the Guildhall with unparalleled magnificence. The braziers in the hall were supplied with logs of rare, sweet-scented wood for fuel; but they burned with a far more delicious fragrance when the noble citizen bringing forth the king's bonds for the repayment of the large sum of £60,000 (equal to £900,000 now), thrust them into the blazing fire, saying, that he was too happy thus to discharge the king's obligations. When the handwriting which was against us is put away, we receive a choice mercy indeed. That blessed fire of Christ's most fragrant sufferings hath consumed all his people's sins; this is royal bounty with an emphasis.

CHRIST—Sympathy with his People

"If," says Augustine, "a man should come up to embrace thee, to kiss and honour thee upward, and beneath with a pair of shoes beaten full of nails, tread upon thy bare foot; the head shall despise the honour done unto it, and for the foot that smarteth, say, Why treadest thou upon me? So when feigned gospellers honour Christ our Head, sitting in heaven, and oppress his members on earth, the Head shall speak for the feet that smart, and say, Why treadest thou on me?" Paul had a zeal toward God, but he did tread upon Christ's feet on earth, for whom the Head crieth forth of heaven, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Although Christ sitteth on the right hand of his Father, yet lieth he on earth; he suffereth all calamities here on earth, he is many times evil entreated hero on earth.;—Bernard Gilpin.

CHRIST—the Preacher's Theme The pulpit is intended to be a pedestal for the cross, though, alas! even the cross itself, it is to be feared, is sometimes used as a mere pedestal for the preacher's fame. We may roll the thunders of eloquence, we may dart the coruscations of genius, we may scatter the flowers of poetry, we may diffuse the light of science, we may enforce the precepts of morality, from the pulpit; but if we do not make Christ the great subject of our preaching, we have forgotten our errand, and shall do no good. Satan trembles at nothing but the cross: at this he docs tremble; and if we would destroy his power, and extend that holy and benevolent kingdom, which is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost, it must be by means of the CROSS.—F. A. James.

CHRIST—the Preacher's great Theme The best sermon is that which is fullest of Christ. A Welsh minister, when preaching at the chapel of my dear brother Jonathan George, was saying that Christ was the sum and substance of the gospel, and he broke out into the following story:—A young man had been preaching in the presence of a venerable divine, and after he had done, he foolishly went to the old minister and enquired, "What do you think of my sermon, sir?" "A very poor sermon indeed," said he. "A poor sermon!" said the young man," it took me a long time to study it." "Ay, no doubt of it." "Why, then, do you say it was poor; did you not think my explanation of the text to be accurate?" "Oh, yes," said the old preacher, "very correct indeed." "Well, then, why do you say it is a poor sermon? Didn't you think the metaphors were appropriate, and the arguments conclusive?" "Yes, they were very good, as far as that goes, but still it was a very poor sermon." "Will you tell me why you think it a poor sermon?" "Because," said he," there was no Christ in it." "Well," said the young man, "Christ was not in the text; we are not to be preaching Christ always, we must preach what is in the text." So the old man said, "Don't you know, young man, that from every town, and every village, and every little hamlet in England, wherever it may be, there is a road to London?" "Yes," said the young man. "Ah!" said the old divine," and so from every text in Scripture there is a road to the metropolis of the Scriptures, that is Christ. And, my dear brother, your business is, when you get to a text, to say, 'Now, what is the road to Christ?' and then preach a sermon, running along the road towards the great metropolis—Christ. And," said he, "I have never yet found a text that had not a plain and direct road to Christ in it; and if ever I should find one that has no such road, I will make a road, I would go over hedge and ditch but I would get at my Master, for a sermon is neither fit for the land nor yet for the dunghill, unless there is a savour of Christ in it."

CHRIST—Trophies of his Power

Before many a Popish shrine on the Continent one sees exhibited a great variety of crutches, together with wax models of arms, legs, and other limbs. These are supposed to represent the cures wrought by devotion at that altar; the memorials of the healing power of the saint. Poor miserable superstition all of it, and yet what a reminder to the believer in Jesus as to his duty and his privilege! Having pleaded at the feet of Jesus, we have found salvation; have we remembered to record this wonder of his hand? If we hung up memorials of all his matchless grace, what crutches, and bandages, and trophies of every sort should we pile together! Temper subdued, pride humbled, unbelief slain, sin cast down, sloth ashamed, carelessness rebuked. The cross has healed all manner of diseases, and its honours should be proclaimed with every rising and setting sun.

CHRIST—Welcoming Sinners

We are told that in stormy weather it is not unusual for small birds to be blown out of sight of land on to the sea. They are often seen by voyagers out of their reckoning and far from the coast, hovering over the masts on weary wings as if they wanted to alight and rest themselves, but fearing; to do so. A traveller tells us that on one occasion, a little lark, which followed the ship for a considerable distance, was at last compelled through sheer weariness to alight. He was so worn out as to be easily caught. The warmth of the hand was so agreeable to him that he sat down on it, burying his little cold feet in his feathers, and looking about with his bright eye not in the least afraid, and as if feeling assured that he had been cast amongst good kind people whom he had no occasion to bo so backward in trusting. A touching picture of the soul who is aroused by the Spirit of God and blown out of its own reckoning by the winds of conviction; and the warm reception which the weary little bird received at the hands of the passengers conveys but a faint idea of that welcome which will greet the worn-out, sin-sick souls who will commit themselves into the hands of the only Saviour.

CHRIST—With us in Trial

One thing which contributed to make Cæsar's soldiers invincible was their seeing him always take his share in danger, and never desire any exemption from labour and fatigue. We have a far higher incentive in the war for truth and goodness when we consider him who endured such contradiction of sinners against himself.

CHRISTIAN—Manifest by his life

Longfellow in his Hiawatha sings of—"The pleasant watercourses, You could trace them through the valley, By the rushing in the Spring-time, By the alders in the Summer, By the white fog in the Autumn, By the black line in the Winter." So traceable are the lives of really gracious men and women. They are not solicitous to be observed, but the gracious "signs following" are sure to reveal them. Like their Master they cannot be hid.

CHRISTIAN—Professor cannot be Neutral

It appears that Themistocles, when a boy, was full of spirit and fire, quick of apprehension, naturally inclined to bold attempts, and likely to make a great statesman. His hours of leisure and vacation he spent not, like other boys, in idleness and play, but he was always inventing and composing declamations, the subjects of which were either impeachments or defences of some of his schoolfellows; so that his master would often say, "Boy, you will be nothing common or indifferent, you will cither be a blessing or a curse to the community." So remember, you who profess to be followers of the Lord Jesus, that to you indifference is impossible; you must bless the church and the world by your holiness, or you will curse them both by your hypocrisy and inconsistency. In the visible church it is most true that "no man liveth unto himself, and no man dieth unto himself."

CHRISTIAN—a Royal Personage A poor but pious woman called upon two elegant young ladies, who, regardless of her poverty, invited her to sit down with them in the drawing-room, and entered into conversation with her upon religious subjects. While thus employed, their brother, a dashing youth, by chance entered, and appeared astonished to see his sisters thus engaged. One of them instantly exclaimed, "Brother, don't be surprised; this is a king's daughter, though she has not yet put on her fine clothes."—Pioneer.

CHRISTIAN—What be should be A child of God should be a visible Beatitude, for joy and happiness, and a living Doxology, for gratitude and adoration.

CHRISTIAN'S LIFE—The Power of

There is a spot on the Lago Lugano, where the song of the nightingale swells sweetly from the thickets on the shore in matchless rush of music, so that the oar lies motionless and the listener is hushed into silent entrancement; yet we did not see a single bird, the orchestra was as hidden as the notes were clear. Such is a virtuous life, and such the influence of modest holiness; the voice of excellence is heard when the excellent themselves are not seen.

CHURCH—her Glory in Tribulation

Looking from the little wooden bridge which passes over the brow of the beautiful waterfall of Handeck, on the Grimsel, one will at a certain hour of a bright day be surprised to see a rainbow making an entire circle, surrounding the fall like a coronet of gems, or a ring set with all the brilliants of the jeweller. Every hue is there

"In fair proportion, running from the red To where the violet fades into the sky."

We saw two such bows, one within the other, and we fancied that we discovered traces of a third. We had looked upon such a sight but once before, and were greatly delighted with "that arch of light, born of the spray, and coloured by the sun." It was a fair vision to gaze upon, and reminded us of the mystic rainbow, which the seer of Patmos beheld, which was round about the throne, for it strikes us that it was seen by John as a complete circle, of which we see but the half on earth; the upper arch of manifest glory we rejoice to gaze upon, but the lower and foundation arch of the eternal purpose, upon which the visible display of grace is founded, is reserved for our contemplation in another world. When we read in the first verse of the tenth chapter of Revelation, "I saw another mighty angel come down from heaven, clothed with a cloud: and a rainbow was upon his head," it greatly assists the imagination to conceive of a many-coloured circlet, rather than a semicircle.

We lingered long watching the flashing crystal, dashed and broken upon a hundred craggy rocks, and tossed into the air in sheets of foam, to fall in wreaths of spray; we should not have tired for hours if we could have tarried to admire the harmonious hues of that wheel within a wheel,

"Of colours changing from the splendid rose, To the pale violet's dejected hue;"

but we were on a journey, and were summoned to advance. As we mounted our mule and rode silently down the pass, amid the pine forests and the over-hanging mountains, we compared the little stream to the church of God, which in peaceful times flows on like a village brook, quiet and obscure, blessed and blessing others, but yet little known or considered by the sons of men. Abana and Fharpar, rivers of Damascus, are greater than all the waters of Israel, and the proud ones of the earth despise that brook which flows "hard by the oracle of God," because her waters go softly and in solitary places; but when the church advances over the steeps of opposition, and is dashed adown the crags of persecution, then, in her hour of sorrow, her glory is revealed. Then she lifts up her voice, like the sea, and roars as a boiling torrent, quickening her pace till that mighty river, the river Kishon, sweeps not with such vehemence of power. Her sons and daughters are led to the slaughter, and her blood is cast abroad, like the foam of the waters, but onward she dashes with irresistible energy, fearing no leap of peril; and then it is that the eternal God glorifies her with the rainbow of his everlasting grace, makes the beauty of her holiness to shine forth, and, in the patience of the saints, reveals a heavenly radiance, which all men behold with astonishment. The golden age of true religion is the martyr period; war breeds heroes, and suffering unto blood in striving against sin draws forth men of whom the world is not worthy. So far from enduring loss by opposition, it is then that the cause of God receives its coronation. The rainbow of the divine presence in the fulness of majesty encircles the chosen people when tribulation, affliction, and distress break them, as the stream is broken by the precipitous rocks adown which it boldly casts itself, that its current may advance in its predestined channel. When, at any time, our forebodings foretell the coming of evil times for the church, let us remember that before the Spirit revealed to the beloved disciple the terrible beasts, the thundering trumpets, the falling stars, and the dreadful vials, he bade him mark with attention that the covenant rainbow was roundabout the throne. All is well, for God is true.

CHURCH—To be Purged When Oliver Cromwell was about to turn the Members of Parliament out of their chamber, he pointed to the mace, and cried, "Take away that bauble!" When he shall come, who will effectually purge the church, he will say much the same of many ecclesiastical ornaments, now held in high repute. Gowns, and altars, and banners, and painted windows, will all go at one sweep with "take away those baubles." Nor will the rhetorical embellishments and philosophies of modern pulpits be any more tenderly dealt with. "Take away this bauble" will be the signal for turning many a treasured folly into perpetual contempt.

CIRCUMSTANCES

Horace Smith truly and wittily remarks, "If a letter were to be addressed to that most influential word, circumstances, concluding thus—'I am, sir, your very obedient humble servant,' the greater part of the world might subscribe it without deviating from the strictest veracity."

COMING TO CHRIST—as a Sinner A great monarch was accustomed on certain set occasions to entertain all the beggars of the city. Around him were placed his courtiers, all clothed in rich apparel; the beggars sat at the same table in their rags of poverty. Now it came to pass, that on a certain day, one of the courtiers had spoiled his silken apparel, so that he dared not put it on, and he felt, "I cannot go to the king's feast today, for my robe is foul." He sat weeping till the thought struck him, "To-morrow when the king holds his feast, some will come as courtiers happily decked in their beautiful array, but others will come and be made quite as welcome who will be dressed in rags. Well, well," said he, "so long as I may see the king's face, and sit at the royal table, I will enter among the beggars." So without mourning because he had lost his silken habit, he put on the rags of a beggar, and he saw the king's face as well as if he had worn his scarlet and fine linen. My soul has done this full many a time, when her evidences of salvation have been dim; and I bid you do the same when you are in like case: if you cannot come to Jesus as a saint, come as a sinner; only do come with simple faith to him, and you shall receive joy and peace.

COMING TO CHRIST—as a Sinner In one of the coal-pits of the north, while a considerable number of the miners were down below, the top of the pit fell in, and the shaft was completely blocked up. Those who were in the mine, gathered to a spot where the last remains of air could be breathed. There they sat and sang and prayed after the lights had gone out because the air was unable to support the flame. They were in total darkness, but a gleam of hope cheered them when one of them said he had heard that there was a connection between that pit and an old pit which had been worked years ago. He said it was a long passage through which a man might get by crawling all the way, lying flat upon the ground; he would go and see if it were passable. The passage was very long, but they crept through it, and at last they came out to light at the bottom of the other shaft, and their lives were saved.

If my present way of access to Christ as a saint is blocked up by doubts and fears, if I cannot go straight up the shaft and see the light of my Father's face, there is an old working, the old-fashioned way by which sinners have gone of old, by which poor thieves go, by which harlots go. I will creep along it, lowly and humbly; I will go flat upon the ground. I will humble myself till I see my Lord, and cry, "Father, I am not worthy to be called thy son, make me as one of thy hired servants, so long as I may but dwell in thy house." In our very worst case of despondency we may still come to Jesus as sinners. "Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners." Call this to mind, and you may have hope.

COMMUNION WITH CHRIST—its Influence on our Views When you have been sitting in a well-lighted room and are suddenly called into the outer darkness, how black it seems; and thus when a man has dwelt in communion with God, sin becomes exceeding sinful, and the darkness in which the world lieth appears like tenfold night.

COMMUNION WITH CHRIST—Joy of No sooner do you pass the brow of the St. Gothard pass, on your way to Italy, than you perceive that, beyond all question, you are on the sunny side of the Alps. The snow lying there is nothing in comparison to the vast accumulation upon the Swiss side of the summit, the wind ceases to be sharp and cutting, and a very few minutes' ride brings you into a balmy air which makes you forget that you are so greatly elevated above the sea level. There is a very manifest difference between the southern side and the bleak northern aspect.

He who climbs above the cares of the world, and turns his face to his God, has found the sunny side of life. The world's side of the hill is chill and freezing to a spiritual mind, but the Lord's presence gives a warmth of joy which turns winter into summer. Some pilgrims to heaven appear never to have passed the summit of religious difficulty; they are still toiling over the Devil's Bridge, or loitering at Andermatt, or plunging into the deep snowdrifts of their own personal unworthiness, ever learning, but never coming to a full knowledge of the truth; they have not attained to a comfortable perception of the glory, preciousness, and all-sufficiency of the Lord Jesus, and therefore abide amid the winter of their doubts and fears. If they had but faith to surmount their spiritual impediments, how changed would everything become! It is fair travelling with a sunny land smiling before your eyes, especially when you retain a grateful remembrance of the bleak and wintry road which you have traversed; but it is sorry work to be always stopping on the Swiss side of the mountain. How is it that so many do this?

COMMUNION WITH GOD—Power of In driving piles, a machine is used by which a huge weight is lifted up and then made to fall upon the head of the pile. Of course the higher the weight is lifted the more powerful is the blow which it gives when it descends. Now, if we would tell upon our age and come down upon society with ponderous blows, we must see to it that we are uplifted as near to God as possible. All our power will depend upon the elevation of our spirits. Prayer, meditation, devotion, communion, are like a windlass to wind us up aloft; it is not lost time which we spend in such sacred exercises, for we are thus accumulating force, so that when we come down to our actual labour for God, we shall descend with an energy unknown to those to whom communion is unknown.

COMMOTION OF SAINTS

Communion is strength, solitude is weakness. Alone, the fine old beech yields to the blast, and lies prone upon the sward: in the forest, supporting each other, the trees laugh at the hurricane. The sheep of Jesus flock together; the social element is the genius of Christianity.

COMMUNION OF SAINTS

What the circulation of the blood is to the human body, that the Holy Spirit is to the body of Christ which is the church. Now, by virtue of the one life-flood, every limb of the body holds fellowship with every other, and as long as life lasts that fellowship is inevitable. If the hand be unwashed the eye cannot refuse communion with it on that account; if the finger be diseased the hand cannot, by binding a cord around it, prevent the life-current from flowing. Nothing but death can break up the fellowship, you must tear away the member, or it must of necessity commune with the rest of the body. It is even thus in the body of Christ; no laws can prevent one living member of Christ from fellowship with every other, the pulse of living fellowship sends a wave through the whole mystical frame; where there is but one life, fellowship is an inevitable consequence. Yet some talk of restricted communion, and imagine that they can practise it. If they be alive unto God they may in mistaken conscientiousness deny their fellow Christians the outward sign of communion, but communion itself falls not under any rule or regulation of theirs. Tie a red tape round your thumb and let it decree that the whole body is out of fellowship with it; the thumb's decree is either ridiculously inoperative, or else it proves injurious to itself. God has made us one, one Spirit quickens us, and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus; to deny fellowship with any believer in Jesus is to refuse what you must of necessity give, and to deny in symbol what you must inevitably render in reality.

CONSCIENCE—Hardening

It is a very terrible thing to let conscience begin to grow hard, for it soon chills into northern iron and steel. It is like the freezing of a pond. The first film of ice is scarcely perceptible; keep the water stirring and you will prevent the frost from hardening it; but once let it film over and remain quiet, the glaze thickens over the surface, and it thickens still, and at last it is so firm that a waggon might be drawn over the solid ice. So with conscience, it films over gradually, until at last it becomes hard and unfeeling, and is not crushed even with ponderous loads of iniquity.

CONSECRATION

Travellers have said that they have discovered gardens of Solomon, which were of old enclosed as private places wherein the king walked in solitude; and they have also found wells of a most deliciously cold water, dexterously covered, so that no person unacquainted with the stone in the wall, which either revolved or slid away with a touch, could have found the entrance to the spring. At the foot of some lofty range of mountains a reservoir received the cooling streams which flowed from melted snows; this reservoir was carefully guarded and shut out from all common entrance, in order that the king alone might enter there, and might refresh himself during the scorching heats. Such is the Christian's heart. It is a spring shut up, a fountain sealed, a garden reserved for Jesus only. O come, Great King, and enjoy thy possessions.

CONSISTENCY

Milton excuses Oliver Cromwell's want of bookish application in his youth thus:—"It did not become that hand to wax soft in literary ease which was to be inured to the use of arms and hardened with asperity; that right arm to be softly wrapped up among the birds of Athens, by which thunderbolts were soon afterwards to be hurled among the eagles which emulate the sun."

Carnal case and worldly wisdom are not becoming in the soldier of Jesus Christ. He has to wrestle against principalities and powers, and has need of sterner qualities than those which sparkle in the eyes of fashion or adorn the neck of elegance.

CONSISTENCY

"I shall not attend Sabbath-school any more," said a young girl to one of her class. "Why not?" asked her friend. "Because my mother is going to send me to the dancing-school, and I think it very inconsistent to attend both at the same time." Children are sure to reason, if their parents do not. "Lead us not into temptation," let children pray; for are they not often led there?

CONTENTMENT

Making a day's excursion from Botzen in the Tyrol, we went along the very narrowest of roads, mere alleys, to which our country lanes would be turnpike roads. Well, you may be sure that we did not engage an ordinary broad carriage, for that would have found the passage as difficult as the needle's eye to the camel; but our landlord had a very narrow chaise for us, just the very thing for threading those four-feet passages. Now, I must make you hear the moral of it, you fretful little gentlemen. When you have a small estate, you must have small wants, and by contentment suit your carriage to your road. "Not so easy," say you? "Very necessary to a Christian," say I.

CONVERSATION In Andrew Fuller's diary is the following entry:—"Jan. 3, 1782. This afternoon being on a visit, as I stepped aside from the company, I overheard one of them saying, 'I love Mr. Fuller's company, it is so diverting. 'This expression moved me much. Oh, wretch that I am! Is this to have my speech seasoned with grace? O Lord, forgive me! Some humbling thoughts for the above in prayer."

"4. Tender this morning in remembering the above circumstance. Lord, make me more spiritual in time to come."

CONVERSATION—Edifying The Spaniards in Chili believed that no water was so wholesome or of so delicate a flavour as that which flowed through veins of gold; certainly no conversation is so edifying to the hearers as that which pours forth from a heart stored with sacred knowledge, sanctified experience, devout contemplations, and such like precious treasures.

CONVERSION—a Radical Change

I passed by a piece of common which some lord of the manor or other had been enclosing, as those rascals always will if they can, to rob the poor of their rights, and filch every morsel of green grass upon which we may freely plant our feet; but I noticed that the enclosers had only railed it round, but had not dug it up, nor ploughed it, nor planted it; and though they had cut down the gorse, it was coming up again; of course it would, for it was a common still, and a bit of fence or rail could not alter it; the furze would come peeping up, and ere long the enclosure would be as wild as the heath outside. But this is not God's way of working. When God encloseth a heart that has laid common with sin, does he cut down the thorns and the briers and then plant fir trees? (Isaiah 1:13.) No, no; but he so changeth the soil, that from the ground itself, from its own vitality, there spontaneously starts up the fir tree and the myrtle. This is a most wonderful result. You take a man and leave him at heart the same godless man. You mend his habits; you make him go to church, or to the meeting-house; you clothe him; you break his wine bottle; you rinse his mouth out, so that he does not talk so filthily; and altogether you say, "He's now a respectable man." Ah! but if these outward respectabilities and rightnesses are only skin deep, you have done nothing. At least, what you have done is no great wonder; there is nothing in it to be proud of. But suppose this man can be so changed, that just as freely as he was wont to curse he now delights to pray, and just as heartily as he hated religion he now finds pleasure in it, and just as earnestly as he sinned he now delights to be obedient to the Lord; ah! then, this is a wonder, a miracle which man cannot accomplish, a marvel which only the grace of God can work, and which gives to God his highest glory.

CONVERSION—a Complete Surrender When Henry VIII. had determined to make himself head of the English Church, he insisted upon it that convocation should accept his headship without limiting and modifying clauses. He refused to entertain any compromises, and vowed that "he would have no tantums," as he called them. Thus when a sinner parleys with his Saviour he would fain have a little of the honour of his salvation, he would save alive some favourite sin, he would fain amend the humbling terms of grace—but there is no help for it, Jesus will be all in all, and the sinner must be nothing at all. The surrender must be complete, there must be no tantums, but the heart must without reserve submit to the sovereignty of the Redeemer.

CONVERSIONS (Sudden)—not all Genuine

Fish sometimes leap out of the water with great energy, but it would be foolish to conclude that they have left the liquid element for ever, in a moment they are swimming again as if they had never forsaken the stream; indeed, it was but a fly that tempted them aloft, or a sudden freak, the water is still their home, sweet home. When we see long-accustomed sinners making a sudden leap at religion, we may not make too sure that they are converts; perhaps some gain allures them, or sudden excitement stirs them, and if so they will be back again at their old sins. Let us hope well, but let us not commend too soon.

CONVICTION—of Sin

There is something to be learned from the conduct of the Papists to our sires. If any poor wretch recanted and so escaped the fire, they were accustomed to make him carry a fagot at the next burning, as if to let him see what he had escaped, and make him confess what he had deserved. Depend upon it, conviction of sin is much like this carrying of the fagot. Well do I remember when I felt the sentence of death within me, and trembled lest it should be executed: my conscience was a minor hell, a fagot of the pile of Tophet. But, blessed be God, we are thus judged and sentenced in ourselves that we may not be condemned with the world. We bear the fagot that we may not be burned with it CORRUPTIONS—Hard to Die A cat once sprang at my lips while I was talking, and bit me savagely. My friend in whose house it occurred, decreed that the poor creature should die. The sentence he executed personally, to the best of his ability, and threw the carcase away. To his surprise, the cat walked into the house the next day.

Often and often have I vowed death to some evil propensity, and have fondly dreamed that the sentence was fulfilled, but alas! in weaker moments I have had sad cause to know that the sinful tendency still survived.

CORRUPTIONS—Hated by the Saints When Venice was in the hands of the Austrians, those alien tyrants swarmed in every quarter; but the Venetians hated them to the last degree, and showed their enmity upon all occasions. When the Austrian officers sat down at any of the tables in the square of St. Mark, where the Venetians delight on summer evenings to eat their ices and drink their coffee, the company would immediately rise and retire, showing by their withdrawal that they abhorred their oppressors. After this fashion will every true Christian treat his inbred sins; he will not be happy under their power, nor tolerate their dominion, nor show them favour. If he cannot expel them, he will not indulge them.

CORRUPTIONS—Indulgence of The man of the world in the olden time bowed to the fallen statue of Jupiter, by way of bespeaking the favour of the god in the event of his being again lifted on his pedestal. What are those provisions for the flesh, which too many Christians so readily make, but a kind of homage to the old man whom they profess to have renounced?

CORRUPTIONS—Overcome by Grace My gardeners were removing a large tree which grew near a wall, and as it would weaken the wall to stub up the roots, it was agreed that the stump should remain in the ground. But how were we to prevent the stump from sprouting, and so disarranging the gravel-walk. The gardener's prescription was, to cover it with a layer of salt. I mused awhile, and thought that the readiest way to keep down my ever-sprouting corruptions in future would be to sow them well with the salt of grace. O Lord, help me so to do.

CORRUPTIONS—Overcome Gradually When Sir Christopher Wren was engaged in demolishing the ruins of old St. Paul's in order to make room for his new cathedral, he used a 'battering-ram with which thirty men continued to beat upon a part of the wall for a whole day. The workmen, not discerning any immediate effect, thought this a waste of time; but Wren, who knew that the internal motion thus communicated must be operating, encouraged them to persevere. On the second day, the wall began to tremble at the top, and fell in a few hours. If our prayers and repentances do not appear to overcome our corruptions, we must continue still to use these gracious battering-rams, for in due time by faith in Jesus Christ the power of evil shall be overthrown. Lord, enable me to give hearty blows by the power of thy Holy Spirit until the gates of hell in my soul shall be made to totter and fall.

CORRUPTIONS—Strengthened by Habit In preparing places for planting new trees, the diggers found it needful in certain spots to lay aside the spade and use the pick-axe. In those positions there had been a well-gravelled carriage road, and hence it was hard to deal with it. How often, when we are under sanctifying influences, do we find certain hard points of our character which are not touched by ordinary influences; these are most probably sins in which we have become hardened, tracks worn by habitual transgression. We must not wonder if the severest processes of affliction should be tried upon us, if the pick-axe is used instead of the spade, that our stony places may yet yield soil for the plants of grace and holiness.

CORRUPTIONS—Seen even in Solitude

George Shadford wrote:—"One day a friend took me to see a hermit in the woods. After some difficulty we found his hermitage, which was a little place like a hog-sty, built of several pieces of wood, covered with bark of trees, and his bed consisted of dry leaves. There was a narrow beaten path about twenty or thirty yards in length by the side of it, where he frequently walked to meditate."

"If one offered him food, he would take it, but if money was offered him, he would be angry. If anything was spoken which he did not like, he broke out into a violent passion. He had lived in this cell seven cold winters, and after all his prayers, counting his beads, and separating from the rest of mankind, still corrupt nature was all alive within him."

Alas! alas! what will it avail us whether we are in England or Ireland, Scotland or America; whether we live amongst mankind, or retire into a hermitage, if we still carry with us our own hell, our corrupt evil tempers? Without a new heart and a right spirit, no condition can deliver a man from the thraldom of his sins. Neither publicity nor solitude avails anything until grace prevails with us. The devil can tempt in the wilderness as well as in the crowd. We want not hermitages but heavenly-mindedness.

CORRUPTIONS—Vitality of The yew tree appears to renew itself out of its own decay; the decayed wood at the centre of an old yew is gradually formed into rich vegetable mould, and fresh verdure springs from it. How like is this to our inward corruptions, which have a marvellous vitality, so that one sin feeds upon the death of another. If we are cured of some one fault, we grow proud of the amendment; or if we perceive ourselves to be in the wrong and strive against the evil, we are too apt to despond and become unbelieving. So pride and unbelief, two master evils, grow out of the decay of other sins.

COURAGE—Strengthened by past Deliverances

Sir Francis Drake, being in a dangerous storm in the Thames, was heard to say," Must I who have escaped the rage of the ocean, be drowned in a ditch!" Will you, experienced saints, who have passed through a world of tribulation lie down and die of despair, or give up your profession because you are at the present moment passing through some light affliction? Let your past preservation inspire you with courage and constrain you to brave all storms for Jesus' sake.

COVETOUSNESS

Covetous men must be the sport of Satan, for their grasping avarice neither lets them enjoy life nor escape from the second death. They are held by their own greed as surely as beasts with cords, or fish with nets, or men with chains. They may be likened to those foolish apes which in some countries are caught by narrow-necked vessels; into these corn is placed, the creatures thrust in their hands, and when they have filled them they cannot draw out their fists unless they let go the grain, sooner than do this they submit to be captured. Are covetous men then so like to beasts? Let them ponder and be ashamed.

COVETOUSNESS—its Insidiousness

Beware of growing covetousness, for of all sins this is one of the most insidious. It is like the silting up of a river. As the stream comes down from the land, it brings with it sand and earth, and deposits all these at its mouth, so that by degrees, unless the conservators watch it carefully, it will block itself up, and leave no channel for ships of great burden. By daily deposit it imperceptibly creates a bar which is dangerous to navigation. Many a man when he begins to accumulate wealth commences at the same moment to ruin his soul, and the more he acquires, the more closely he blocks up his liberality, which is, so to speak, the very mouth of spiritual life, Instead of doing more for God he does less; the more he saves the more he wants, and the more he wants of this world the less he cares for the world to come.

CUTTLE—FISH—Persons who Resemble a

It was an old Pythagorean maxim, "Sepiam ne edito," "never eat the cuttle-fish" The cuttle-fish has the power of emitting a black liquid which dyes the water and enables it to conceal itself. Have nothing to do with those who darken all around them that they themselves may be unseen; honest men love light, and only the evil find darkness to be congenial. When an author is too obscure to be understood, leave him till he knows how to write; when a preacher is mystical, high-flown, sophistical, shun him, for it is most likely he labours to conceal some latent heresy; when a man's policy is deep and artful, flee from him, for he means no good. No deceiver or double-tongued man must be admitted within the circle of your confidence. Remember the advice, never eat a cuttle-fish.