Sunday-school times

              SUNDAY-SCHOOL
TOLUME VII. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS A YEAR.—PHILADELPHIA, FEBRUARY 4, 1865. number 5.
THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL TIMES,
A Weekly Religious Paper.
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J
5
For the Sunday-School Times.
THE BEST ORNAMENT'
BY THE RET. RICHARD NEWTON, D. D.
No. 1—Part III.
THE two reasons we have already given
why " a meek and quiet spirit" is the
best ornament were, first, " because Je9us
wore it," and secondly "because it is so
useful."
The third reason why " a meek and quiet spirit"
is the best ornament is that it makes those who
WEAR IT BEAUTIFUL."
Other ornaments are for the body, but this
is an ornament for the soul. And it makes
the sonl that wears it look really beautiful.
You know how dreary a garden looks in
winter. The leaves have all fallen. The
flowers are all withered ; the bushes are all
bare, and everything looks dark and desolate.
But how different it is with that garden in the
spriDg 1 The leaves are out again all fresh
and green; the flowers appear bloominsr in
tbeir loveline.-s, and everything looks bright
and beautiful. The soul without this orna¬
ment, is like a garden in winter. The soul
with this ornament i3 like the garden in
spring.    It mikes the soul look beautiful.
Let us take another illustration. Yonder
is a great mass of dark storm-clouds in the
Bky, without any sun to shiDe upon them.
How gloomy they look! How black, and
disagreeable! You turn away your eye, with¬
out a moment's desire to see them again. But
let the setting sun now shine out from behind
thpm, and 0, how different they look 1 How
they glow! How they sparkle ! How beau¬
tiful those bright, golden, purple colors are
which are shining all over them ! You love
to stand and gaze upon them, and feel as if
you would never get tired. Now just what
those dark clouds are without the sunshine,
the soul is that does not wear " the ornament
of a meek, and quiet spirit." And just what
those clouds are when tbe sun is shining upon
them, and lighting them up with his glories,
the soul is when it wears this best ornament.
Yes, no matter how old, or wrinkled, or ugly
a person's face may be, if he is only wearing
this ornament, it will shine through his face,
as the sun does through the cloud, and make
it look all beautiful.
One day in winter, several years ago, a little
boy from the South, who was on a visit to the
city of Boston, was taking his first lesson in
" sliding down hill." He was erjoying tbe fun
very much, when all at once he found his foot
had caught in the fold3 of a lady's rich silk
dress. He was greatly confused and mortified,
and springing for his sled, with his cap in his
hand he began to make an earnest apology.
" I beg your pardon, ma'am!" he cried, " I'm
very sorry."
"Never mind," said the lady, "there is no
great harm done, and you feel worse about it
than I do."
"Bat, dear madam," said the boy, "your
dress is ruined. I thought you would be very
angry with me, for being so careless."
"Oh, no," said the lady, " better have a torn
dress than a ruffled temper."
"Oh, isn't the a beauty ?" asked the little
fellow, as the gentle spirited lady went on her
way.
"Who? That lady?" asked his companion.
" If you call her a beauty you shan't choose
for me. Why she is more than forty years
old, and her face is all yellow and wrinkled."
" I don't care if her face is wrinkled," said
the little fallow, " her soul is beautiful, anyhow."
And that wa9 true. The Udy was wearing
" the ornament cf a meek and quiet spirit,"
and this made her soul beautiful. This is the
best ornament, because it makes those who wear
it beautiful.
The fourth reason why this is the best ornament
is that IT MAY BE WORN AT ALL TIMES.
Other ornaments are oLly put on and worn on
particular occasions. Muffs and furs are worn
only in winder. Light, thin dresses are only
fit to be worn in summer. Bridal ornaments
are only worn at weddings. Queen Victoria
has a variety of moat beautiful jewels as the
ornaments of her crown ; but these are only
worn on certain grand occasions. Tbe general
of i, army only wears his full dre-:s on parade
iiay», -or other important occasions. Ornaments
of ihis kind are not fit to be worn every day.
People do not wear them when tbey are travel¬
ling, or when they are sick, or when tbey are
goir.g to die. But it is different with this
" ornament of a meek and quiet spirit." This
can be worn by day or by night, in summer,
or iu winter, at home or abroad—when sick,
or when well—when living or when dying.
Yes, even when we come to die, in that solemn
hour when all other ornaments are laid aside,
" the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit"
may still be worn. We can wear it on our
dying bed. We can wear it at the judgment
bar. And when we enter heaven we can wear
it there among the angels forever. This is a
good reason why it is the best ornament. It
can be worn at all times.
rc
• Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865,
by J. C. OnrriKnes & C>.. in the Clerk's office of
the District Court of the United States for the Eastern
District of Pennsylvania.
For the Sunday-School Times.
Drowsy Worshippers.
1DO not get so much good as I wish out
of the church services. I grow so drowsy
there," is the complaint of more than one
church goer. It is looked upon as an infir¬
mity which cannot be helped, and so must be
borne. The majority bear it with great re¬
signation !
We need not look far to find the cause of
the infirmity. How many crowd Saturday
with a double burden of work, because on
Sunday they must rest from labor! Tbey
think it meritorious to crowd seven days' labor
into six, when God only requires six days'
labor of every one of us each week. A great
many " last things" are left over for Saturday
evening, and tbe pillow is robbed to find time
for them. How can we be other than drowsy
on the Lord's day ?
'•Remember the Sabbath day to keep it
holy, is a command for every day in the week,"
said an experienced Christian. "We must
prepare for it beforehand or we cannot keep it."
A cold heart is another fruitful cause of
drowsiness on the Sabbath. If as much in¬
terest was felt in religion as in the most com¬
mon, every-day duties, we should not fall
asleep. What would you think of a man who
fell asleep at his plough, or in making a bu¬
siness transaction, or of a condemned crimi¬
nal who fell a9leep while proffering a petition
on which his life or death depended ? They
were all wise compared with one who thus
insults God. Let us throw aside all disguises
and call this not an infirmity merely, but a
sin for which God will bring us into judgment.
He will not be thus mocked and pass it over
as lightly as men do.
It is a habit which grows fast with indul¬
gence. No fetters are harder to break than
those of sloth. A great many open profligates
have been converted, but very rarely a sloth¬
ful person. There will be a dreadful awa¬
kening for those who thus sleep away the
precious moments given them to prepare for
heaven.    If you have this sinful habit, break
it ap at  Bar cost.     Giro  tho -n bole~6V'i3atUr»
day to rest, rather than thus endanger your
soul, and the souls of others who are influ¬
enced by your bad example. What will it
profit, if you do gain by Saturday's overwork
and in the end lose the soul ? J. E. L.
For the Snnday-School Times.
A BLUE ROSE.
A FAMOUS horticulturist had rose3ofsll
sorts in his gardens, from the pearliest
white to the deepest garnet; from the faintest
cream color to the brightest canary; a rose
that passed for purple, and another called out
of courtesy a black rose; but all their exqui¬
site fragrance and beauty were wasted on the
gardener, who was absorbed in one idea, that
was, to produce a blue rose. So all possible
expedients were tried. Chemistry and botany
were besieged to try and get upon nature's
blind side and induce her to bring forth this
anomaly.
Now this gardener was not alone in his dis¬
content. There are a bost of people in the
world searching after blue roses. They have
enough and to spare of others far more beau¬
tiful, but all of them profit nothing so long as
the coveted one is sail beyond their reach.
It was not by any means because the blue rose
was the prettiest that it was desired, but be¬
cause it could not be had.
The joys that we have are never considered
of half as much worth as those we do not
have. God gives us great occasions of hap¬
piness very seldom in our life-lime; but
there is a rich undergrowth of small enjoy¬
ments springing up in almost every pathway,
which may be ours only for the gathering. It
is of no use to wait for happiness to come to
us. We must take that which we find at our
hand.   We must stop searching for blue ro3es.
Do not imagine you would be at all satisfied
if you did get the object you most covet. Just
as soon as the gardener got his blue rose, he
would be just as uneasy as ever until he got a
blue tulip or a blue dahlia. The only suretyyou
have that you would be satisfied with future
possessions is that you are happy over those
you now possess. " Contentment with godli¬
ness is great gain." L.
"I   TOLD   YOU   SO."
HE is a wise man who judges after the
event. If any one can claim infallibility
he can. He is sure; no mistake about him.
Let us all defer to him who judges after the
event,.
But, though his judgment is right, he does
not tell the truth. He says, " I told you so!
I knew how it would be !" Now he did not
say any such thing, nor did he know how the
business would come out. But triumphing
over your misfortune, judging the beginning
from the end, rather than the end from the
beginning, and having really the best of the
argument, since now the mistake is palpable
which in the beginning was unseen, his egot¬
ism overcomes his veracity, and with a com¬
placent twinkle he comforts you with, " I told
you so."
But this " I told you so," is a man of light
mind anyhow, even when he tells the truth
about his superior sagacity. None but a vain,
weak man, will indulge in boasting over dis¬
appointment. It shows, too, a hard nature,
which will gratify its own self-conceit at yonr
expense. And yet these " I told you so's" are
too common. There is a large class who
judge after the event, men with whom success
is proof of enterprise, and failure of rashness
or error in planning, and of feebleness or
blunder in execution. But they are men of
but little acquaintance with human life, or, if
they have had experience, they have not pro¬
fited by it. Observation and experience teach
us, that " 'tis not in mortals to command suc¬
cess ;" we can only deserve it eo far as our
limited powers and performances may de¬
serve anything. " Man proposes, but God dis¬
poses."—The Boston Recorder.
HOME INFLUENCE.
I BELIEVE that it is scarcely possible to live
in a family where religion is sweetly ex¬
emplified, even by one member only, without
deep convictions. Truly has it been said, that-
" our duties are like the circles of a whirlpool,
and the innermost includes home." A modern
writer has designated home, "heaven's falletj
sister;" and a melancholy truth lies1 shrouded
in those few words. Our home influence is
not a passing, but an abiding one,; and
all-powerful for good or evil,—for peace or
strife,—for happiness or misery. Each separate
Christian home has been likened to a central
sun,around which revolves a happy and united
band of warm, loving hearts, acting, thinking,
rejoicing, end sorrowing together. Which
member of the family group can say, " i
have no influence? ' What sorrow, or what
happiness, lies in the power of each I " We
shall never know until we are ushered into
eternity," writes a living author, " how great
has been the influence which one gentle, loving
spirit has exercised in a household, shedding
the mild radiance of its light over all the com¬
mon events of daily life, and checking the in¬
roads of discord and sin by the simple setting
forth of that love which lseeketh not her own,'
but which ' suffereth long, and is kind.'"
"Alighted lamp," says M'Cheyne, "is a
very small thing, and it burns calmly and
without noise, yet it giveth light to all who
are within the house." And so there is a quiet
influence, which, like the flame of a scented
lamp, fills many a home with light and fra¬
grance. Such an influence has been beauti¬
fully ooii.pnrud  to   "a  oetrpofr, ooft   nnOt  (Seep,
whioh, while it diffuses a look of ample com¬
fort, deadens many a creaking sound. It is
the curtain which, from many a beloved form,
wards off at once the summer's glow and the
winter's wind. It is the pillow on which sick¬
ness lays its head, and forgets half its misery."
This influence falls as the refreshing dew, the
invigorating sunbeam, the fertilizing shower,
shining on all with the mild lustre of moon¬
light, and karmonizing, in one soft tint, many
of the discordant hues of a family picture.
There are animalcules, we are told, " in¬
visible to the naked eye, which make the sea
brilliant as fire, so that every wave seems bor¬
dered with gold; and there are also small rep¬
tiles which occasion those miasms which by
their plague can slay the strongest natures
so even spiritual existence has its monads, and
the life-atmof phereof the family depends upon
what the nature of these is." Let U3 all en¬
deavor to resemble the good animalcules,
which, although invisible, make all around
bright and golden-tinted.
How great is the influence of the heads of
families, of masters and mistresses, parents,
brothers and sisters, and even of servants and
little children! How many servants have had
cause to bless the day when they first entered
into a pious family, and not only listened to
the precepts of God's holy word, but witnessed
how they were exemplified and carried out in
the daily life of those whom it was their privi¬
lege to serve! How many parents are there
whose children have risen up and called them
blessed! How many a brother and sister have
owed their conversion, under God, to each
other! How many Christian servants have
been the first to introduce religion into a
thoughtless and worldly family; choosing the
time of sickness or sorrow, when the heart
was softened and subdued, and asking God's
blessing upon their humble endeavors! How
many a little child has been permitted to
speak a word for Jesus! " Those," writes
Miss Catherine Sinclair, "who neglect to
promote the happiness, or to seek the salva¬
tion of any with whom the providence of an
all-wise Creator has connected them by the
most sacred ties, betray one of their chief
trusts, and lose one of the greatest felicities
which the world can afford."—Isabel.
BIRDS.
"They dwell and rejoicingly play in the ne'er-
changing house of the Father;
For all there is room; the pathway of none is
mark'd out,—each goes where he listotb,—
And through the house freely they move, both the
greater and also the less ones.
Above they exult, as they fly o'er my head,
And my hoart feels a yearning,
A yearning to join them on high."
—From the German.
The violet grows low, and covers itself
with its own tears, and of all flowers yields
the sweetest fragrance.    Such is humility.
It is a most mortifying reflection to any man
to consider what he has done compared with
what he might have done.
THE RAINY SABBATH.
By Rev.. Alfred Taylor.
THE rain is steadily descending. The pave¬
ments are wet, and the gutters incline to
fullness. The aspect of matters and things
out of doors is not as cheerful as on a bright,
sunshiny day. And yet the storm is not vio¬
lent. It is not, as in Pharaoh's time, " hail, and
fire mingled with the hail, very grievous." It
is not a hurricane, involving the pedestrian in
dangers from bricks coming down from their
accustomed places on chimney tops, or from
church steeples, or telegraph poles suddenly
falling across' his path. It is not a freshet,
making every path a torrent to overwhelm
the church-goer. It is a plain, steady, well-
behaved fall of rain. A good umbrella, will
keep much of it off as it falls; a pair of
sound overshoes will afford protection from
what has fallen and lies in the streets; and a
reasonably stout suit of raiment will defend
so much of the person as is not provided for
either by umbrella or overshoes.
And yet, when we arrive at church, what a
chilling sight presents itself. The two dozen
dripping umbrellas stacked in the vestibule
make us think that the rest of the people
have preferred to take theirs into the pews
with them, lest they should be stolen. But
as we open the door and go in, the fact is re¬
vealed that the two dozen umbrellas are the
umbrellas of all who are present. Happily,
some are familiar umbrellas, of the old kind,
large enough for a tent, and have sheltered
one adult member of the family, with three or
four juveniles clustering about him, as little
chickens under the hen's wings. So there are
a few more than the two dozen in church.
Where are all the rest of the people ? Is there
not an umbrella, or an overshoe, or a stout
coat, in the many families which are not re¬
presented here ? Are they all sick people who
have remained at home, or do they fear sick¬
ness if they Bhould expose themselves for the
time which would be spent in the short walk to
church, to the moistening influence of the
gently falling rain-drops? For reliable in¬
formation on these points the inquirer must
visit them at their homes. Go there, and you
will find in one family total destitution of um
brellas; in another, "Can't find my overshoes;"
in another, " These rainy days are so horrid:"
and in others, various excuses, good and bad,
the most of which may be summed up in the
one statement, that the people do not care
enough about the sanctuary services to take
the trouble to go through the rain. So we
bid good- morning to tnose WHose "Saobath
song is, " I pray thee have me excused," and
look in again on the faithful little company
assembled in the church; only remarking to
the able-bodied ones who have stayed at home,
when they might just as well have come, that
if they bestow no more diligence on the
management of their worldly affairs than
they seem to do on their religious, their places
of business may some day be ornamented with
a conspicuous hand-bill, headed "Sheriffs
Sale."
Although the first sight of the moist-looking
handful of people in the church is somewhat
chilling, it is otherwise as soon as our eyes
have adjusted themselves to a proper focus to
take in the view. Verily, there are but a few
present; but who are they? They are the
ones who love the house of God so much
that they have not suffered the rain to keep
them from it. They are hungering and thirst¬
ing for the gospel. They deserve to be fed.
The congregation makes up in quality what is
deficient in quantity. You can preach to these
people, feeling that they will remember every
word you say. You can talk to them more in
earnest than you can talk to a whole church
full of people who have come merely to exhibit
themselves and their "go-to-meeting" clothes.
You are not addressing ostrich feathers, ele¬
gant breast-pins, or fine satins; youafe speak¬
ing to souls. You are not throwing away your
sermon on thoughtless people who, after din
ner, will not be able to tell what the text was;
but you are driving the truth home to honest
hearers of the Word, who are very likely to be
doers of it also. It is pleasant to preach to
such a congregation, even if it is small. You
need not observe all the formalities which are
in place when the church is thronged. Put
your manuscript sermon in your pocket if you
chooser till next Sunday, and give the people
a few living thoughts from a psalm, or some
other familiar portion of Scripture. No matter,
to-day, about "firstly, secondly, and thirdly."
No matter about so many pages of " applica¬
tion." But mind that it is at least as good as the
sermon would have been. Those people are en¬
titled to the best. Show them that they will
not be disappointed, if they come again when
it rains. Give them such a discourse that they
will feel profited by it, and that when they go
home they will tell their friends and neighbors
who stayed away from church, how much they
missed by not being there.
If we could not get our dinner, except by
going through the rain for it, most of us would
find that the rain was a slight obstacle. Going
to the house of God is the Christian's spiritual
meat, if he goes in a right frame of mind. It
is not only his privilege to go—it is his duty.
He has no right to prefer to stay away, and be
hungry. His family, and his fellow Christians,
are all better for his example of regular at¬
tendance.
Find your overshoes, brother; look to the
joints of your umbrella, and see if the thing is
in good order; down from the hook with your
stout overcoat, and do not let yonr seat be
vacant just for a little rain.—The Presbyte¬
rian.
For the Sunday-School Timea.
Working for Jesus*
Tune—" Speaking for Jesus."   (I want to be an Angel.)
We all must work for Jesus,
Who died our souls to save,
Who by his blood redeems us
From sin's eternal grave.
Bought with a price so precious,
A debt we ne'er can pay,
Shall we with buried talents,
Stand idle all the day ?
No, we must work for Jesus,
With thankful, loving hearts;
Though hard the toil, he aids us,
And needful grace imparts.
His oause is ours, and gives us
A work for every one;
The oldest and the youngest
May help its glory on.
We all must work for Jesus,
Oh! list his earnest call,
"So forth into my vineyard
And labor one and all.
The field is wide, the harvest
White with the ripening grain,
But waits the faithful reaper,
Who shall not toil in vain."
Then let us work for Jesus,
Nor think of resting here,
Though ofttimes weak and weary,
Toil on, with faith and prayer.
Work for the poor and friendless,
The tad, the erring one,
And at the last with joy we'll hear
Our Saviour say, " Well done !"
Newark, N. J. Bta.
For the Sunday-School Time*.
For the Sunday-Sehool Times.
To Our Soldiers and Sailors.
DOES it ever seem to you that you are toil¬
ing alone and forgotten? While you
make a wall of safety with your flesh and
blood, standing 6houlder to shoulder, steady,
silent, invincible, looking death in the face,
self-offered martyrs for the country reposing
securely behind you, does it come over you
«ith Bickening loneliness that no one prays
for you in this moment of peril? That you
are made the shield of thankless hearts ? You
are mistaken. We do pray for you. If I
speak of myself, it is but telling you wbat
others do. I do pray for you, and especially
I beg for those of you toho never pray for your¬
selves.
At this moment the expected conflict impels
me to implore you not to delay surrendering
yourselves, body, soul, and spirit, to the Lord
Jfijtta-Christ.„ Do you ask, "How sbalU do
it?" As a little helpless child speaking to a
loving parent, so lift your eyes to heaven and
repeat these words, " I am a sinner. 1 want
to be forgiven. I want to be saved. If I die
in this approaching battle, I want to go from
the battle-field to heaven. I want a friend to
take me there,—a fiiend who will save me jast
as I am, for there is no time for me to reform, and
no time for me to prove my sincerity even to my
own heart. Thou Son of God, Christ Jesus,
Saviour of sinners, do thou undertake for me,
for I cannot help myself. Almighty God, thou
my Creator, in mercy save me in the way of
thine own appointment."
My friends ! be honest with yourselves, and
at this trying moment, honest with your Cre¬
ator. Tell him the sins that make you afraid
to die. Ask him to forgive you. Ask the
Holy Ghost to teach you how to trust Christ. Do
this, and then, when the moment come3 that
you are to lewe this world, as the light of life
darkens and the earth is gliding from beneath
your feet, you may safely take hold of hope in
Christ as of a cable, and leap forth into the
abyss of eternity, " calling on the name of the
Lord." H. S.
MEMORABLE DATES.
AN old man was sitting in his little room
one Sunday afternoon. His Bible lay
before him, opened at the blank sheets before
the title-page, on which were written some
dates of days and years. He was so absorbed
in the contemplation of these that be did not
notice the entrance of a neighbor, who asked
him what he could find to read with such in¬
tense interest, where he saw only a few dates ?
The old man replied: "Neighbor, could you
but know what these dates stand for, you
would not be any longer surprised." These
were the dates of all the principal occurrences
of the old man's life. He pointed With his
finger to one after the other. " Here is the
date of my birth, of my baptism, of my enlist¬
ment, my marriage," and bo on till at last he
came to the date of the day when the Lord
had effectually called him, and since which he
had known himself to be the child of God, and
inheritor of the kingdom of heaven. And
then he exclaimed, " 0 the depth of the riches
both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
how unsearchable are his judgments, and his
ways past finding out!" and sang with tears
and in a trembling voice:
" Could I a thousand voices raise,
A thousand tongues employ,
My heart would pour itself in praise,
In thankfulness and joy.
And still its happy song should be,
Hear what the Lord has done for me."
You may be sure tbat, if you are thought¬
ful for other people's children, God will be
thoughtful for yours. God will take care of
your children, if you are conscientious in your
conduct toward the children of other people.
God will bring back your children when they
stumble and go astray, if you are faithful to
the children of others that are liable to stum¬
ble and go astray. ?ou will be paid a hun¬
dred fold for all that you do in this direction.
—R. W. Beecher.
UNLIKE AND YET ALIKE.
BY   THE   REV.   JOHN    TODD,  D. D.
Third Series—No. 5.
<f "VTOU talk about true religion," said Mr.
-1- Dunbar to his friend, old Mr. James
Hamilton. " Now isn't true religioa the same
thing, created by the same Spirit, the world
over ?"
" Certainly it is."
" So I believe—or so I should believe, if I
believed at all. But instead of seeing all have
the same religion, there's hardly two that
think alike. You talk about the ' revival' now
going on in our city. Will it make them all
alike ? Or rather, is it not so, that men who
thought and felt alike before becoming reli¬
gious, begin to differ and separate more and
more immediately after?"
"Ah well! we will not argue the question,
but will you go with me this evening?"
" With all my heart."
So Mr. Hamilton meekly led his friend first
into a Presbyterian prayer-meeting. It was
very full, and still, and solemn. The prayers
were Bhort and full of awe. Tbe minis¬
ter read in the Word of God, and they sang
hymns in long metre, slowly, strongly, and
solemnly. At length a young man arose and
said that he began to indulge a trembling
hope that he had been born of tbe Spirit; but
that his sins seemed so many, his life so
guilty, that he abhorred himself; that he
knew he deserved hell, and tbat nothing but
the mercy of Christ kept him out of it. He
spoke with diffidence, with awe, and almost
with tenor, as if ready to sink under his own
sins. The great impression which he c5n-
veyed was the guilt of his soul. It seemed as
if the Spirit had " convinced him of sin, of
righteousness, and of judgment to come."
Next they went to a meeting of Baptist
Christians. They seemed to speak aud pray
readily, and jist as each one felt like doing.
Both sexes participated. A young convert
arose to tell his " experience." He had been
led to see that he needed religion, and he had
made up his mind that he must have it. He
was ready to take up the cross and " go down
into Jordan," and be baptized ; nay, he longed
for the day to come when he could be im¬
mersed 1 It was a most joyful anticipation.
Then they went into a Methodist meeting.
There they sang and shouted, and prayed,
and clapped their hands. A young convert
broke out in shouts; he had found ihe Sa¬
viour 1 He had set his face towards Zion;
nothing would turn him back—" Glory to
God," "Hallelujih!" He only wanted wings
to fly! He had no fears, no terror*, no doubts.
It wa3 all clear and delightful to him. He
could not shout and sing loud enough 1
They then went into an Episcopalian meet¬
ing, and there, too, was a young convert, and
devoutly was he reading his prayer-book ! It
never seemed so beautiful or so precious be¬
fore. Those prayers were just wbat suited his
case—so reverential, so UDexcpptionable, so
majestic! How he admired the "excellency
of our Liturgy," and felt that the lines had
fallen to him in pleasant places, and he had a
goodly heritage. He felt sure that under no
other form of worship could he grow in grace
so fast!
Next they went to a small, plain, brick,
Quaker meeting-house. There, too, they
found a young convert. He did not shout, did
not read prayers, did not ask for baptism, did
not acknowledge his guilt, bat he sat down
alone and pondered and thought, and had
" great thoughts of heart." He thought of his
own heart and life, of his need of a Saviour,
and of the character and worth of Christ. He
did not weep or smile, but he pondered and
meditated!
" There now! how unlike," said Mr. Dun¬
bar.    " 13 it not just as I said, no two alike?"
" Nay, you are there greatly mistaken, sir.
If you could see their hearts, you would find
that all this difference is merely outside.   Get
into the heart, and you will find that they feel
alike as to their sins, as to their Leed of mercy,
and as to the fitness of Christ to be their Re¬
deemer.    Put them in heaven and they would
all go together and cast their crowns at the
Saviour's reet."
" What makes them so different, then, here ?"
" You  must remember that all these have
different minds and modes of thinking; they
were not educated alike, not instructed in the
Bible   alike,  and   have  moved   in  different
spheres.    And the Holy Spirit   h*3 kindly
adapted himself to their peculiar characters.
" Diversities  of  operations,   but   the   same
Spirit."    You and I would try to make men
and Christians all in one mould.    But God
does not so make men.    And instead of its
being an argument aga,inst the reality of reli¬
gion, this diversity of showing its workings
in the heart is a strong argument in its favor.
Beneath   this   apparent   diversity,  there   is
unity.    I have just been ,to see a sick child.
He was near death, and singing in a low voice,
"I want to be an angel."   And I have this
very afternoon  been to see a \ oucg maiden
near her end, and she was singing. " Nearer,
my God, nearer to tnee;' and abo a poor suf¬
ferer under the most awful  pains, and she
said, " Thou holdest mine eyes wakiDg.   I am
so troubled  that I cannot speak.    But I call
to rem ojbwnce  ruy song  in  the  night.    I
commune with my own heart.    The Lord will
not cast me off forever.    His  mercy is not
clean gone forever.    His promise will not fail
forevermore.    Though he slay me, yet will I
trus himl"
"Diversities of operations,  but the same
Spirit"