Methought that this scene pictured forth to the mind The course of the Christian through life; For how oft, in his holy and heavenly career, Have dark threatening clouds made him tremble with fear, As he saw them with misery rife! "Volumes and vast" they came on, in the shape Of sins, and temptations, and woes; And they frowned in approaching, and seemed to declare, Then, harassed with fears, and with danger alarmed, Precious and dear then became to his soul And fear and bright hope both impelled him to flee- 'Neath the shadow of God's mighty wings. There, calm and resigned, he has watched for the waves, He looked-they had fled-like the dew of the morn, Though sometimes indeed he has felt the rude storm, Yet the Lord, who afflicted, has felt for his woe, Like gold that is tried in the fire, he's been made And trials have taught him to say, "It is good M. W. THE TWO REFORMERS. THERE were two men greatly distinguished in the history of modern Europe, whose influence upon their fellow-men is felt to the present hour. Both began their career young; both possessed superior powers of mind, and great moral courage; both were highly educated men, one in the severe Universities of Germany, the other in the more refined University of Paris; and both well trained for the part they acted. Both were thrown upon the world in a period of great moral darkness-a period during which Europe had been long oppressed by the odious claims, the corrupt aristocracy and the debasing institutions of the Papal Church, inwoven and inlaid in every department of human society, from the courts of princes to the humblest domestic relations. Both also had the same immediate object the emancipation of the human mind from the bondage of Rome. They were intensely exciting scenes into the midst of which these two remarkable men were introduced; for within the memory of the present and past generation, no events have taken place of greater importance than the great Protestant Reformation, and the memorable Revolution in France. But Luther and Voltaire were very different men. The one was impelled by that atheistical and ruthless fanaticism which was the precursor of the "reign of terror;" the other by a firm belief and ardent love of the truth of God. Luther was actuated by the boldest, the most steady, the noblest, and most unselfish motives and passions ever known to fallen humanity since the days of Paul. Voltaire, too, was actuated by motives which were bold, active, persevering—but the most reckless and vile. Under equally strong impulses, with the same sanguine expectations of success rousing, invigorating all their powers of body and mind, each pursued his own chosen and different way. And the difference was just this. Luther, anticipating momentous results from the controversy, controlled by the goodness, not simply of his proximate, but of his ultimate object, and deeply sensible that it was much easier to pull down than to build up, and much more difficult to implant right principles than to eradicate wrong ones, took great pains to build up before he began to pull down. Voltaire, reckless of the future, deaf to every cool and benevolent consideration-dead to every consideration but one, did nothing but pull down. Luther took the truth of God for his guide, and having first firmly established a few radical principles of Christianity against all the confederate counsels of princes, legates and synods, held them forth, and gave them to Rome, against the time of need, when her own rotten bulwarks and proud towers should fall. And having thus laid his foundation, and indicated it to Europe he levelled blow after blow against Rome, and tore up her decayed battlements, leaving her the Word of God to stand upon. Voltaire saw the absurdities, and felt the evils of the Church of Rome, as well as Luther, and was resolved on some radical transformation, if not reform. But the change he aimed at was without truth, without religion, without God. "An evil spirit troubled him." He had not the foresight-or if he had the foresight, he had not the moral principle-to perceive that, in destroying the religion of Rome, and giving France nothing in its stead, the result would be the most inhuman violence and barbarity. He defamed the Bible, trod it under his feet, and then spit upon and besmeared it. He professed to enlighten the minds of men, but threw over them the pall of darkness and death. He professed to be the people's friend, but was their malignant enemy. He shut his ears against plain and conclusive argument, yet made his appeal to reasondark, proud reason. He deified her; and the nation, by solemn legislative enactments, resolved that she was God! Paris, like the city of Ephesus of old, was filled with confusion, some crying one thing, and some another," till at length the populace, impersonating the Goddess of Reason, rushed to Notre Dame, with a degraded woman on their shoulders, set her in the midst of God's temple, and all called out for the space of two hours, "There is no God but reason, and death is an eternal sleep!" Voltaire gained his object. The mind of France was liberated from Rome; he had knocked off its fettersit was free. No man ever accomplished his object more effectually. So did Luther accomplish his object; he accomplished it manfully. He revolutionized Germany and other countries of Europe, and left the human mind free. The deeds of these two men are done; the scenes are past; and we, at this distance of time, can look at them. The fruit has had time to grow and become ripe; and what is it? Look at the effects of that controversy, conducted by Luther, in Germany, Britain, Switzerland, Prussia, and even France itself; on the iron-bound coast and granite hills of New England; in the Hollanders and Huguenots of New Jersey and the Southern States; and the fermenting, swelling mass, of every name and kind, that are spreading between the Alleghany and the Rocky Mountains. We can see also the effects of that disastrous revolution effected by Voltaire. Some of us remember it; and the deep knell that sounded it to Europe and the world still sounds in our ears. Romanism was destroyed in France; but there was nothing left, save selfish, violent, cruel passions, rioting in cruelty. The lion was unchained, and the hands that unchained him were the victims of his fury. A fire was kindled that nothing could put out; it wasted itself, and the land was burnt over. Everything was destroyed-religion, morality, the marriage bond, kings, law, order, priests, and altars-even liberty itself. Everything was involved in the universal ruin. Voltaire "made a desert, and called it peace." It was a desert truly-such a moral wilderness, created in a Christian land, as the world had never seen before, nor since. It was carnage. It was the reform of infidelity. A lesson is recorded which all subsequent ages will read:-That men may be mighty controversialists, and move mighty minds and mighty nations; but if they do nothing more than triumph over their prostrate foe, they accomplish nothing for the honour of God, or the best interests of their fellow-men. G. S. THE PROTESTANT'S LITANY. "From all false doctrine, heresy, and schism, Good Lord deliver us! Dark are the shadows o'er thy childrens' path; Good Lord, deliver us! From error's thick and ever-gathering cloud, From every hope that is not linked with Thee, Good Lord, deliver us! From systems that would bid us place our trust Good Lord, deliver us! |