RELIGION IN THE COTTAGE. 'Bring forth thy pearl of exceeding worth, And name the price of thy precious gem, The cloud went off from the pilgrim's brow, On the high-born maiden's mind; In the beauteous hour of youth. And she hath left the old grey halls Where an evil faith had power, And the courtly knights of her father's train, And she hath gone to the Vaudois vale, By lordly feet untrod, Where the poor and the needy of earth are rich RELIGION IN THE COTTAGE. A STORY. Ir is one bright characteristic of the Christian religion, that its reception makes men better than it found them, whatever may have been their previous condition. While it dissipates the dark clouds of error so often thrown around human philosophy, and exalts the highest views of natural reason, it also stoops to enlighten and cheer the tenant of the lowhest cot. It is too late to say that it is the only religion which is adapted to people of all situations, even the most humble; and that it is the Star of Bethlehem alone that so often soothes and directs those whose condition would otherwise be truly comfortless. There is much instruction to be acquired by seeing the effects of pure Religion in the lower walks of life; for it is there that you find her in her loveliest garb, without any of the fanciful trappings of the fashionable world. The truth of the last remark may, perhaps, be more clearly illustrated by the following incident, which, though it may contain nothing marvellous, is nevertheless a simple fact:Several years since, while riding in the interior of Connecticut, I was one day unexpectedly caught in a tremendous thunder-storm, far, as I feared, from The rain was falling in torrents, and any shelter. those "groaning travellers of the sky-the lightning that glares, and the thunder that rends"-shook the very ground, and died away in echoes through In the surrounding woods that often startled me. this dreary condition I unexpectedly arrived at a small thatched hovel, that seemed to promise but a poor retreat from the pitiless storm now raging in its violence. Curiosity, as well as the rain, urged me to ask its hospitality. Little ceremony seemed either to be expected or wished at such a time; and in a few moments I was snugly seated beside a good fire, kindled with small sticks, which lay in bundles around the hearth. The only inhabitants of this little mansion seemed to be a neat, modest young "I might be discontented, sir," she replied, as she placed a large pan to catch the water-"I might be discontented with this life, were I not fully convinced that my lot is far happier than I deserve, and will one day be exchanged for a better-I mean in heaven!" There was a resignation in her countenance that surprised me. She wiped her eye with a corner of her clean apron, and at my request gave me a brief history of her life. She had married while young, with bright prospects of happiness. But she was disappointed in the companion of her life. Her husband soon threw off his assumed mask, and showed himself almost destitute of humanity. He drank to excess, and lost his little property at the gaming-table among companions as worthless as himself. Often would he return home late at night, drunken and cross, to abuse his poor wife, whose only comfort, while waiting for his return, was to weep over her little boy, as he lay slumbering, unconscious of her grief. Afflictions always make us either better or worse. Upon her they had a happy effect; they drove her to her Bible, and taught her that, amid all her trials, there was a Fountain of hope which would never fail-a Friend to the wretched who never forsakes. She thus learned how truly this life is a pilgrimage-how few are our earthly joys; and she placed her heart, her hopes, and her anticipations in heaven, and was comforted. With cheerfulness and serenity, she now endured all the hard treatment of her husband, and no longer repined at her lot. She even informed me, that when alone with her little boy, while the raging winds threatened to crush her humble cottage, she had enjoyed seasons of communion with the Father of While spirits which more than compensated for all her loss. On being asked if she could earnestly pray for the salvation of her husband, she replied: there is life I can pray and hope; and often with tears and an anguished heart do I kneel for my poor which a wife cannot mention." husband, while he is ruining himself at places After a long conversation with this interesting woman, as the rain subsided I left her, exhorting her to patience and faithfulness, not knowing that I shores of mortality, and wondering not a little at the should ever again be permitted to see her on the various, though necessary, means which God employs to train his children up for immortality. During the several years succeeding this visit at the cottage, amidst my numerous avocations, I had almost forgotten the contented, though leaky little hovel which protected me from the storm; and perhaps stances of the visit, had I never again passed the should never again have recalled all the circumsame road; but in the middle of the last summer, business called me to travel near the same spot. It was on a stlil moonlight evening in July, that I ascended the small hillock that again presented the little cottage to view. It stands at the foot of a wild, but charming, mountain. I stopped my horse, and in a very few moments memory had placed before me every detail of my first visit. There were many interesting associations, which my situation naturally suggested. And the scenery, too, was more than delightful. On the right, the rugged mountain reared its everlasting butments of stone, and defied all the blasts and gnawings of time. On the left, just through a narrow copse of woods, the spreading lawns sloped as far as the bright moon would enable the eye to range; while the wild bounding stream, as it dashed along the side of the mountain, seemed to break the stillness that would otherwise have been complete. Indeed, so calm and silent was all around, and,so quietly slept every leaf of the forest, that one was almost startled at the trampling of his own horse. It was now after ten o'clock as I drew near the cottage. As I approached it, I observed that it was in the same wretched condition as formerly; and I thence naturally concluded that the husband was the same wicked man. The rough broad fence before it was much decayed, and everything exhibited the appearance of neglect. A light glimmering through the crevices of the boards gave evidence that the occupants had not retired to rest, and I determined to call. On drawing still nearer, I was not a little surprised to hear a noise within, and at first I feared it was the unfeeling husband, who, just returned from the neighbouring village, was closing another day of sin by abusing his wife. Nor could I for some time believe I heard aright, when, on stopping my horse, I heard a voice within praying very distinctly and fervently. While waiting, lest my entrance should disturb the worshippers, a large dog came round the house from a shed on the back-side, and seated himself on the door-stone, without making any noise, as if to protect his master while engaged in devotion; but as soon as the voice of prayer was hushed, he immediately returned to his lodgings. At any other time, and in other circumstances, I might not have noticed this; but now it led me to think of that care which God takes of all that put their trust in him. I knocked gently at the door, which was opened by the same hand that gave me admittance on a former occasion. The modest woman had forgotten my countenance, and seemed somewhat surprised at seeing a stranger at that time of night. I even thought she looked at me rather suspiciously as I took a seat as if to remain some time. The subject of religion was soon introduced, and she conversed with more animation and apparent delight than when I before saw her. On being asked if she was still contented with her condition, she recognised the stranger who had formerly sheltered himself here from the peltings of the storm, and she received me with a joy wholly unexpected. On turning round I saw that the room was now parted into two, one of which was a bedroom. From this room I saw the husband coming, with his coat in his hand. I arose to meet him. "Ah!" said he, "you are the man who once called and comforted my poor wife! Well, I am that same wicked husband, who so often abused her goodness; and I am glad to see you. I have hoped I should one day see you, that I might tell you that so wicked a wretch has learned to pray. Oh, I have been a great sinner! but my wife has forgiven me, and I pray that God would also!" He wiped his eyes on his white shirt sleeve, and I saw also the tears glistening in the eyes of his wife, unless those in my own deceived me. He spoke with a feeling that could not but awaken feeling in others. In a conversation of about an hour, I learned that, within the space of a fortnight previous, he had become the subject of a powerful revival of religion in the village near by. He had exerted himself to oppose its pro gress, and though his hard heart was a stiff barrier against it, yet even that was subdued by omnipotent power. He was now, to all appearance, a new crea ture; and I beheld the man who had so often abused his wife, and the wife who had so often prayed for the husband, and saw them both so happy, that I could not but feel deeply grateful for a religion which produces such a change. We united our hearts to gether before the throne of mercy, and parted with mutual regret. As I was coming out of the door, he took me by the hand:-" Sir, you live in W; do you know Mr H Yes." "And Mrs H- ?" "Yes." "Well, tell Mrs H that the wicked James who used so often to make her so much trouble, and who finally left her because she re proved him for breaking the Sabbath-oh, tell her that this wicked James now prays! Ask ber to forgive me, for I was very bad; and I pray God to forgive me. Oh! conscience has often reproved me for leaving that good woman's service, just because she told me how wicked I was in breaking the Sabbath! But by God's help I am now to live differently." I left the now happy cottage with feelings wholly indescribable; and during a ride of six miles had a good opportunity for meditating on the inscrutable ways of God. I have not since been that way; but I hear from authentic sources, that the change on the part of the cottager is real-that he is now very industrious, and at the beginning of cold weather he had repaired his little house to make them comfortable during the winter. Indeed, there is as great a change in his outward appearance as in his heart. He sends his two little boys to the nearest school, neatly dressed, and they promise yet to make useful and respectable members of society. His wife feels that her prayers are answered beyond her most sanguine hope, and is happy. Such are now the promising appearances; and it cannot be doubted but that, in the last day, still greater effects will be seen to have resulted from the power of religion in this cottage.-Todd's Simple Sketches. THE SIMOOM. THE fifth day, after passing the night under the tents of El Henadi, we rose with the sun, and went out to saddle our dromedaries; but found them, to our great amazement, with their heads plunged deeply into the sand, from whence it was impossible to disengage them. Calling to our aid the Bedouins of the tribe, they informed us that the circumstance presaged the simoom, which would not long delay its devastating course, and that we could not proceed without facing certain death. Providence has endowed the camel with an instinctive presentiment for its preservation. It is sensible two or three hours beforehand of the approach of this terrific scourge of the desert, and turning its face away from the wind, buries itself in the sand; and neither force nor want can move it from its position, either to eat or drink, while the tempest lasts, though it should be for several days. Learning the danger which threatened us, we shared the general terror, and hastened to adopt all the precautions enjoined on us. Horses must not only be placed under shelter, but have their heads covered and their ears stopped; they would otherwise be suffocated by the whirlwinds of fine and subtile sand which the wind sweeps furiously before it. Men assemble under their tents, stopping up every crevice with extreme caution; and having provided themselves with water placed within reach, throw themselves on the ground, covering their heads with a mantle, and stir no more till the desolating hurricane has passed. That morning all was tumult in the camp; every MISCELLANEOUS. one endeavouring to provide for the safety of his beasts, and then precipitately retiring under the protection of his tent. We had scarcely time to secure our beautiful Nedge mares before the storm began. Furious gusts of wind were succeeded by clouds of red and burning sands, whirling round with fierce impetuosity, and overthrowing or burying under their drifted mountains whatever they encountered. If any part of the body is by accident exposed to its touch, the flesh swells as if a hot iron had been passed over it. The water intended to refresh us with its coolness was quite hot, and the temperature of the tent exceeded that of a Turkish bath. The tempest lasted ten hours in its greatest fury, and then gradually sunk for the following six; another hour, and we must all have been suffocated. When at length we ventured to issue from our tents, a dreadful spectacle awaited us; five children, two women, and a man, were extended dead on the still burning sand; and several Bedouins had their faces blackened and entirely calcined, as if by the action of an ardent furnace. When any one is struck on the head by the simoom, the blood flows in torrents from his mouth and nostrils, his face swells and turns black, and he soon dies of suffocation. We thanked the Lord that we had not our selves been surprised by this terrible scourge in the midst of the desert, but had been preserved from so frightful a death.-A. De Lamartine. REPINING. WHEN thou afflict'st me, Lord, if I repine, I show myself to be my own-not thine. QUARLES. 311 of gain? Scorning the childish dream of the philosopher's stone, it aspires to turn the globe itself into gold.-Rev. Dr Harris. THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. TILL we see our children in suffering, we never fully understand the divine comparison, so full of condescending kindness: "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him." Our feelings then become a commentary to us, as if written on our hearts with the very finger of God, on such gracious assurances. And when little children are taken away from us, how precious are the Saviour's words: "Of such is the kingdom of heaven!" On such occasions he seems to say, with the smile of pitying love: "Suffer your little children to come unto me!"- Wardlaw. I revisited Greenwood Cemetery, a few days ago, and found many new monuments; one of which particularly interested me, from the cheerful simplicity of its epitaph. The body of a mother and child rested beneath the marble, and on it was inscribed the words: "Is it well with thee? Is it well with the child? And she answered, It is well."-2 Kings iv. 26. This gives pleasant indication of real faith in immortality; like the Moravians, who never inscribe on their tombs the day when a man was born and when he died, but simply "the day he came hither, and the day he went home."-Mrs Child's Letters from New York. THE GOD OF THIS WORLD. GOLD is the only power which receives universal homage. It is worshipped in all lands without a single temple, and by all classes without a single hypocrite; and often has it been able to boast of having armies for its priesthood, and hecatombs of human victims for its sacrifices. Where war has slain its thousands, gain has slaughtered its millions; for while the former operates only with the local and fitful terrors of an earthquake, the destructive influence of the latter is universal and increasing. Indeed, war itself-what has it often been but the art of gain practised on the largest scale ?-the covetousness of a nation resolved on gain, impatient of delay, and leading on its subjects to deeds of rapine and blood? Its history is the history of slavery and oppression in all ages. For centuries Africa, one quarter of the globe, has been set apart to supply the monster with victims-thousands at a meal. And at this moment, what a populous and gigantic empire can it boast!-the mine, with its unnatural drudgery; the manufactory, with its swarms of squalid misery; the plantation, with its imbruted gangs; and the market and the exchange, with their furrowed and care-worn countenances-these are only specimens of its more menial offices and subjects. Titles and honours are among its rewards, and thrones at its disposal. Among its counsellors are kings, and many of the great and mighty of the earth enrolled among its subjects. Where are the waters not ploughed by its navies? What imperial element is not yoked to its car? Philosophy itself has become a mercenary in its pay; and Science, a votary at its shrine, brings all its noblest discoveries, as offerings, to its feet. What part of the globe's surface is not rapidly yielding up its lost stores of hidden treasure to the spirit Miscellaneous. REDEEMING THE TIME.-Coming hastily into a chamber, I had almost thrown down a crystal hourglass; fear, lest I had, made me grieve as if I had broken it; but, alas! how much precious time have I cast away without any regret! The hour-glass was but crystal-each hour a pearl; that but like to be broken, this lost outright; that but casually--this done wilfully. A better hour-glass might be bought; but time, lost once, lost ever. Thus we grieve more for toys than for treasure. Lord, give me an hourglass, not to be by me, but to be in me! Teach me to number my days. An hour-glass, to turn me, that 1 may turn my heart to wisdom.—Fuller. AN EXCUSE ANSWERED.-You complain that you cannot pray. At least, then, you have one petition that you are bound to offer.-Anon. One of the fathers saith: "That there is but this difference between the death of old men and young men-that old men go to death, and death comes to young men.-Bacon. WORK WHILE IT IS DAY.-Bishop Cumberland, being told by some of his friends that he would wear himself out by intense application, replied, in the words of Bacon: "It is better to wear out than to rust out. I hate to see a thing done by halves. If it be right, do it boldly; if it be wrong, leave it undone.Gilpin. Men are Atheistical, because they are first vicious; and question the treth of Christianity, because they hate the practice of it.—South. Daily Bread. FRIDAY. "Waiting for the moving of the waters."-JOHN v. 3. Here, then, from day to day Unless you think that salvation itself is not of absolute necessity, what can be the reason that you trifle and dally in that which is of so vast a concernment? What is it that you can plead for yourselves? Is it, that it is not within the compass of your power to regenerate yourselves? It is true; but although you cannot form this new nature in you, why do you not yet do your utmost to prepare and dispose yourselves to receive it? Though we are all lamed and crippled by our fall which we took in Adam, yet such cripples as we are may, notwithstanding, make shift to get into that way by which Christ useth to pass, and may possibly be healed by him. It is a sure rule, though God is not bound to give grace upon men's endeavours, yet neither is he wont to deny it.-Hopkins. SATURDAY, "The grace of God that bringeth salvation."-TIT. ii. 11. Jesus gives me in his Word, Food and med'cine, shield and sword, The Scriptures appear to be the best reading in retirement, especially for the poor, and those who have little leisure, They are the fountain; other books are streams, and streams are seldom entirely free from something of the quality of the soil through which they flow. Who would not draw the water of life for himself from the spring-head? The Scriptures come immediately from God, and lead immefulness in them. They are always new. They endiately to him! There is a boundless variety and tertain while they teach, and profit while they bears upon our own character and condition, howplease. There is always something in them that ever peculiar it may be.-Jay. TUESDAY. "All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come."—JOB xiv. 14. Be still, my soul, and wait His hour, Repose on what his promise saith. There are some Christians who are able to look forward to death, not only without reluctance and dread, but with resignation and pleasure. Thus Dr Gouge was accustomed to say: "I have two friends in the world-Christ and Death. Christ is my first, but Death is my second." Such a Christian may be compared to a child at school. The little pupil is no enemy to his book; but he likes home, and finds his present condition not only a place of tuition, but of comparative confinement and exclusion. He does not run away; but while he studies, he thinks with delight of his return. He welcomes every messerger to him-but far more the messenger that comes for him. And though he may be a black servant, he says: "Well, he will take me to my father's house." Grace is an immortal seed, that will certainly sprout up and flourish into glory-it is a living fountain that will certainly spring up unto eternal lifea ray of heavenly light, that will wax brighter and brighter to a heavenly day. It is immortal in its seed; victorious in a spark; triumphant in its dawn; yea, take it when it is weakest, when this dawn is-Ibid. clouded, when this spark twinkles, when this seed is unspirited yet even then is mighty through God, and is still an overmatch for sin. To set grace against sin, is to set God against Satan-heaven against hell-the Spirit against the flesh; and what odds can any Christian desire more ?-Ibid. SABBATH. "Looking to Jesus."-HEB. xii. 2. O that our life might be One looking up to thee! Ever hast'ning to the day When our eyes shall see thee near; Come, Redeemer, come away Glorious in thy saints appear! Is your heart pressed down even to despondency under the guilt of sin, so that you cry, My sin is greater than can be forgiven? "Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world." Are you at any time filled with unbelieving suspicions of the promises? Look hither, and you shall see them all ratified and established in the blood of the Cross, so that hills and mountains shall sooner start from their own basis and centres, than one tittle of the promise fail.-Heb. ix. 17. Do you find your hearts fretting, disquieted, and impatient under every petty cross and trial? See how quietly Christ your sacrifice came to the altar-how meekly and patiently he stood under all the wrath of God and men together. This will silence, convince, and shame you.-Flavel. MONDAY. "They searched the Scriptures daily."-ACTS xvii. 11. WEDNESDAY. "He is altogether lovely."-Cant. v. 16. I cannot from his praise forbear: Christ cannot but be most precious to a believer, because all his precious comforts come from Christ. The Lord Jesus is fairer than the fairest, sweeter than the sweetest, nearer than the nearest, and dearer than the dearest, and richer than the richest, and better than the best. The elect precious is of all the most precious.-Dyer. THURSDAY. "They say, and do not."-MATT. xxiii. 3. But these, the wretched husks they chew, Oh! how unanswerable are the lives of some professors to the light of professors. They know much, but do little; they know the good they are to do, but they do not the thing they know; they speak of things above, but they love and follow after things below. A man is not what he saith, but is what he doeth; to say what we do, and not to do what we say, is but to undo ourselves by doing. Take heed, sirs, that you do not take yourselves to hell with heavenly words.—Ibid. Edinburgh: Printed by JOHN JOHNSTONE, residing at 12. Windsor Street, and Published by him at 2, Hunter Square. London: R. GROOMBRIDGE & SONS. Glas gow: J. R. M NAIR & Co.; and to be had of any Book seller throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 313 ROOTS OF BITTERNESS SPRINGING UP. BY THE REV. WILLIAM ARNOT, GLASGOW. "Looking diligently, lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up, trouble you, and thereby many be defiled."-HEB. xii. 15. I HAVE seen a husbandman breaking up his fallow ground. First the field was ploughed, then the sods that had been cut by the ploughshare were torn into fragments by the harrows. Next, a heavy roller passed over it, grinding to | powder the dry hard lumps of mould that previous operations had brought to the surface. The field was then left without a green blade growing on it-left brown and bare to the sun and rain of summer. Two or three weeks afterwards I passed the same field. It was no longer brown and bare-it was green all over. Myriads of plants, exhibiting endless variety of form and shade, had sprung up and covered its surface. At different stages of advancement, according to their several natures, they were unfolding their leaves, and opening their flowers, and preparing to bear their fruit. These plants are useless in themselves, and injurious to the field. They are roots of bitterness-thorns and thistles all. Not one of them will be allowed to grow. The husbandman will cut them down, and tear up their roots. He will not allow one of them to come to seed. Whatever labour it may cost him, he will have them all destroyed. Whence came they? They were not sown by the hand of the husbandman; neither were they sown by an enemy in the night. They sprung up spontaneously. They are indigenous in the soil. The seeds are there; and, when the field is let alone, they grow up. The wheat must be sown ere it grow; but the weeds spring up of their own accord. "Declare unto us," said the disciples to their Lord-" Declare unto us the parable of the tares of the field." Reader, we have written for you a parable about the thistles of the field; and, in the light of the Word, we shall now endeavour to "declare" it. Behold these thistles, how they grow, and learn how sins come up so thick and fast upon the course of your lives. The roots of bitterness, whether physical or moral, spring up in the soil. The curse fell at once on the habitation and the inhabitant. The same pestilent breath blasted the soul of man and the soil of earth. Though the subjects on which the stroke fell are so very diverse, the resulting effects bear some resemblance to each other. There is an analogy not to be mistaken, between the accursed earth bringing forth spontaneously its bitter roots, and the corrupt heart sending forth its evil thoughts, adulteries, murders, and whatever else defiles the man. See in this glass reflected our own wretched conNo. 27. | dition. That field, teeming with noxious weeds, is a type of this heart full of all uncleanness. As the heavens declare the glory of God, the earth declares the dishonour of man. The earth, cursed for man's sin, holds forth a portraiture of man's heart. This is not a fancy sketch. It is real; and it concerns us. The Word of the true God declares it: "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." "Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts." Reader, your own heart is the prolific womb of a loathsome progeny! From the first opening of your understanding until now, myriads of thoughts, defiled and defiling, have been springing from that centre, and pouring forth in a continuous stream, and rising up like a thick smoke to the throne of God. "O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me?" In the report of exertions made by benevolent men in London to ascertain the extent of vice, with the view of adopting means to suppress it, I find that some were stationed for an hour at the door of one of the principal haunts of wickedness, to count the number of victims who issued forth. Friends, you might take account of sins in some such way as these men took account of sinners. Whither shall we go to get an example? Reader, let me direct you to the most frequented haunt—the place where you should stand in making your benevolent experiment. Let me tell you where you will find sins foulest and thickest. Set a watch at your own lips-at the door of your own heart; and as to time, it is immaterial-take the most favourable time. Watch, as God does, at that door. See, as he sees, the polluted. stream flowing forth. Try this exercise, and surely at the end of it the cry, "Create in me a clean heart, O God!" will rise more loudly than ever to the throne. This doctrine is of the utmost practical importance. It is not enough that it be written in our creed. It should possess our minds, and influence our whole conduct. We cannot ad-vance a step in a right direction till we see that truth in the Bible, and feel it in our hearts. The knowledge of our own hearts would quench the miserable hope of gaining God's favour by our own doings. It would crush a sinner's expectation founded on himself; and so prepare him for throwing himself wholly on the righteousness of God by faith. Further: if there were a clear sight and pervading sense of the source and seat of the evil in the very nature of the fallen, it would exercise a mighty influence in the manner in which parents professing godliness train their chilAugust 29, 1845. |