Sunday-school times

              •
THE
UNDAYSCHOOL
VOLUME VIII.
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS A YEAR.--PHILADELPHIA, SEPTEMBER 1,1866.
NUMBER 35.
THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL TIMES,
A Weekly Religious Paper.
■One Dollar and Fifty Cents a Year in Advance.
Philadelphia subscribers who wish the paper served
at their residences, will be charged 60 cents additional.
Those who call at the office will receive it for One Dollar
and a half.
The Postage is 20 cents a year, which mnst be paid in
-advance at tbe Post-Offlce where the subscriber resides.
Letters containing articles for publication, should be
addressed
Editors Sunday-School Times,
Philadelphia, Penn'a.
Letters containing subscriptions to the Paper, or
orders for books, should be addressed
J. O. GARRIGUES & CO.,
148 South Fourth Street,
Philadelphia, Penn'a.
For the Sunday-School Times.
OPEN EYES.
By  thh   Rev.   John  Todd,   D.  D.
THE school consisting of many little boys
and giils, was eesembled and all were en¬
gaged in their studies, when a stranger gen¬
tleman entered the room, and at the invita¬
tion of the teacher took his Eeat. After they
had read round, and spelled their lessons, the
gentleman was asked to " make some re¬
marks." Instead of doing this, he simply
said, " I don't want to talk to them, but with
them. I want to know who have eyes, and
who have none. And now, I want you all to
think a minute, and then tell me what you
saw in coming to school this morning. Who
will tell me what he saw?" No answer.
Turning to a fine looking little fellow he said,
" my boy, what did you aee ?"
" I didn't see nothing."
"What I come all the way with your eyes
shut? Didn't you see the road you came
in?"
",Yes, sir."
" And the great bridge you came over ?"
" Yes, sir."
" Very well, you did see something then."
" 0, I didn't know you meant such things.
1 thonghtyon meant new things."
" Well, you get my meaning now.   Who
else can tell me what he saw ?"
" I saw a spotted calf," cried one.
" And I saw a big flock of little ducks
swimming," said another.
And so one said one thing, and another
another thing, and some of the sights seemed
so common, that all the children laughed. It
was a great while before he could get them to
talk, and even the teacher seemed surprised
to hear her scholars talking about common
things.
" Now," said the  gentleman, " I  believe I
saw everything that has been mentioned, and
some things besides.    When I was a  boy"—
(here the children  looked on him as if they
wanted to say, " is it possible, sir, that you
were ever a boy ?") " my teacher used to tell
us always to "keep our eyes open," and thus
see and note whatever we met  with.   Did
none of you see that flock of wild geese that
dew over you about the time you were com¬
ing to school this morning ?"
" 0, yes, sir, we all saw them."
" And yet not one of you mentioned theml"
"We forgot them, sir."
"And that huge, poisonous adder which
somebody killed in the road ?"
" Ye3, sir, we all saw that and looked at it."
"Very well. But you did not so see these
things as to remember them. Now as I
was comiDg along I saw a prisoner shut up,
and one who was free came and stole the
prisoner's food, snatching it out of his mouth.
Before I could interfere he had carried it off
and was hidden among the trees. The poor
prisoner uttered some notes of complaint, and
I am afraid the thief will come again and rob
him; and though I felt sorry for the prisoner,
and know the name of the thief, yet I could
do nothing. But if I had had a gun, I do be¬
lieve I should have shot the thief dead on the
spot."    *
The children began to look wild, and to
wonder what kind of man the visitor was.
" I will explain a little more, the prisoner
was a beautifal canary-bird shut up in his
wire cage, and hanging in the piazza of the
white house on the hill; and the thief was
Mr. Catbird, who darted out of the bnshes
and seized the food, and was back sgain in a
moment." The children here laughed, and
one little feliow cried out " capital I"
"Now, then, my children, you Bee what I
mean by haviDg your eyes open, as you come
and go to school, and as you pass along in
life. One man, you will notice, is very inte¬
resting in conversation, and he can tell of a
thousand things which he haa seen and
heard,—because his eyes have always been
open; while another man equally old, has
nothing to say, has noted nothing and remem¬
bered nothing. It is just so about your les¬
sons. I have known scholars to read over
their lessons again and again, and yet attach
no meaning whatever to them. So it is in
hearing a sermon,—have the eyes cf the mind
open, and make the ears to be eyes, and mark
and remember what you hear. And especi¬
ally I want you to read the Bible with your
eyes open, and as long as you live, notice and
remember all that you read in that holy book.
And now I want you all to look at me, notice
just how I am dressed, and go home and tell
your parents jast how the stranger looked,
and all,—mind now,—all that he said to you."
The stranger arose and bowed, and the
school arose and bowed, and all said " I wish
he would come again ; I guess he would find
my eyes open after thia I"
Tor the Sunday-8chool Times.
THE OLD LIBRARY.
ON a bright June morning the Sunday-
school was again organized. Among the
questions brought up was that of adding vo¬
lumes to the old library. Ab it had been used
for twenty years, without change, the books
were half worn cut, and their contents nearly
known by all the regular scholars. No very
great interest had seemed to be taken in it.
At one time one " wished they had some new
books," but made no effort to procure them.
It seemed evident now, however, that the super¬
intendent was fully determined to have a new
library. A committee was appointed, and the
week found them engaged in visiting the con¬
gregation for the required means. The un¬
dertaking was not desired by the committee
at all. There was a memory of coldness and
even of refusal, by some, when called upon in
other days for a trifle to renovate the old house
wherein many had worshipped till their dying
day. Yet, with a courage equal te the task, the
committee set about it. Encouragement here,
was followed by the bitterness of disappoint¬
ment there, and often they had the mind to
turn back, without asking for more. Again
the thought that they were doing a good work
bade them go forward and bear up cheerfully.
This was hard to do. A few met them in a
spirit strangely unlike the Christian's.
In calling upon a lady who desires to hold
a prominent position in the society around
her, they found she had no intention of inte¬
resting herself in the cause of Sunday-schools.
" She had no children to send there; she
would never have any good of the library after
it was procured; and what was the use of her
giving anything for other folks' children ?"
Another thing, "she did not know but that
if she gave anything, her husband would scold
about it."
" Well," said the visitor, " I never ask my
husband whether I shaS^ give anything to help
on a good cause or not. If I wish to give, I
do so, and he never complains."
Arguments were useless. She could give
nothing for such a cause. But she was es¬
teemed very charitable. In many ways she is
charitable, &s the world calls it, but is it of
a heavenly nature ?
Is it good for us to withhold anything in our
power to give, that will add aught to the cause
of Christ ? Had the committee met with only
such cases in tbeir visits, what good would all
their resolutions to get a library do? But
they were successful.
The question now remaining unsettled is,
What shall we do with the old library ? No
doubt it will serve its mission in some other
school, which has no great supply on hand,
but we know not where. It is a collection
which was left by those "who have gone
before" to the spirit land. Their followers
have also scanned the pages, and many of
these too are " sleeping their last sleep." Some
of them passed away in childhood, with their
hearts all unused to sorrow and care; and
within sight of the case that contains the vo¬
lumes they so often perused, the sunbeams are
resting upon their graves. A few who once
claimed a place among the classes formed
there within those church walh, and selected
the well worn works of devout men and wo¬
men from off these shelves, are now among
the country's dead.
Some of these old books will ever bear about
them a sacred memory. They were loved by
the dead. They will be remembered for their
sakes. Bat yet, there is a work for them to
do in another place. And if they remain in
other hands half as long as they have in ours,
many that read them will be called from death
unto life. May the old library go forth to do
yet more good for the Master, and its last days
appear to be its best days, when the great
books are opened on high.    Minnie Clayton.
Words Fitly Spoken.
THOSE who are called to visit the sick,
need especially to be able to speak fitting
words. The visit of a Christian minister or
friend who has this gift, is often like the
coming of a sunbeam. It diffuses both light
and warmth.
The late Dr. Staughton, on one occasion,
visited a lady who was gradually sinking
under a pulmonary disease. On entering her
room, he greeted her with his peculiarly bright
smile, and asked,
" How are you feeling to-day ?"
" Weak. Oh, so very weak," was the re¬
ply, in a sad, almost desponding tone.
He looked at her pale, sad face with an in¬
creasing sweetness in his smile, and repeated
with his own marked emphasis,
" When I am weak, then I am strong;
Grace is my shield and Christ my song."
The words came like sweet music from
heaven to the poor fainting heart. Her coun¬
tenance lighted up with a gladness that never
left it in life, and shone from it even in death.
The late Rev. W. H. Krause, of Dublin, was
visiting a lady in a similar state, " weak, oh,
eo very weak." She told him that she had
been very much troubled in mind that day,
because in meditation and prayer she had
found it impossible to govern her thoughts,
and kept merely going over the same things
again and again.
" Well, my dear friend," was his prompt
reply, " there is provision iu the gospel for
that too. Oar Lord Jesus Christ, when his
soul was exceeding Borrowful unto death,
three times-prayed and spoke the same words."
This seasonable application of Scripture
was a source of great comfort to her.   Her
trouble was gone, and a sweet peace took its
place.
Those who can speak such fitting words at
the bedside of the sick and the dying, will al¬
ways be hailed with gladness as eons of con¬
solation. The gift is one of incalculable
worth, as the suffering children of God have
often found. It is one of those " best gifts"
which it were well to covet earnestly, and to
Seek with special importunity from the Head
of the Church, for the sake of his weak and
suffering members.—The National Baptist.
For the Sunday-School Times.
Danger of Self-Deception.
A GOOD thought does not consist in simply
thinking about good things. A person
who can speak with energy on the great doc¬
trines of the gospel, and thus convey his
thoughts with acceptability and usefulness,
may be ia danger of substituting this know¬
ledge and gift of utterance for humble heart¬
felt religion.
As he is not a Christian who only talks
about Christ, so he is not spiritually minded,
who only thinks about spiritual things. It is
a great blessing to have spiritual views ; but
what will these avail without spiritual affec¬
tions, and a spiritual walk ?
From the habit of attending a gospel min¬
istry, and reading religious publications, we
may be led into an evangelical train of think¬
ing; and yet the teachings of the faithfal
preacher and the pious author, may be to us,
only as the summer shower falling upon the
barren rock.
We are in continual danger of self-decep¬
tion. What is knowledge without love ? "Be
ye doers of the word, and not hearers only,
deceiving your own selves," is the warning
voice of revealed truth.
Have we laid hold by faith of the previous
salvation so freely offered in the gospel
of grace ? Do we esteem Jesus precious ? Do
we love him as oar only Saviour ? Do we
trust wholly in his atonement and interces¬
sion ? Do these views and feelings make us
humble and self-denying, thankful and obe¬
dient ?
O, let us go daily as humble suppliants to
the foot of the cross I There, we may ask
with the fullest assurance that Jesus will
supply our every need, out of his inexhaustible
fulness L°t ua ask for a more lively faith,
an increased deadness to the world; more
ardency of affection, more love for souls, more
knowledge and wisdom, more meekness and
forbearance; yea, more of every grace which
will enable us to "adorn hia doctrine," and
glorify his holy name. S. A.
For the Sunday-School Times.
LOOK UP.
WEARY of companionship, a child of care
turned her steps from the haunts of
men. She longed to be for a little season
where she would hear only the rustling of the
leaves, the murmuring of the brook, and the
singing of the birds. Pilled with her own
sad thoughts, earth's mysteries and beauties
affected her not. Her feet pressed the soft
turf, crushed the up-springing flowers, but
she did not heed them. She had given her¬
self up to melancholy dreamings.
Two joyous creatures, a bright, beautifal
boy and a laughing girl, in the freshness of
early childhood, broke suddenly upon her
solitude. With steps almost as fleet as the
arrow which shot from the bow of the boy,
the children sped across the turf, and once as
they paused near her, the boy, with bow
strung and arrow just ready to leap from it,
said, "Look up, Lulu," and the sister, with
eyes so like the blue of heaven that they
seemed a part of it, tamed her gaze upward
and clapped her hands gleefally as the arrow
shot heavenward and seemed lost in the fleecy
clouds.
The child of sorrow, too, looked up to watch
the fleet arrow, and her gaze stopped not with
its flight, but swept beyond the clouds, be¬
yond the stars, and from the heavenly man¬
sions light leaped out and entered her soul.
She remembered the blessings of her life; the
love that had guarded and guided her. Gra¬
titude took the place of grieving. Joy sat
where sorro w had brooded. When she turned
her gaze to earth again, the fairy children had
fled, but the lesson they had taught was ever
remembered.
In this world of ours, this good, glad world,
are there not many, like this one, whose path¬
way lies where shadows fall? When we are
living ia the sunlight, we sometimes selfishly
forget those who sorrow; but God does not
forget them. He chastens, but it is in love.
It lightens the stroke to draw near to him who
bears the rod. Dear, afflicted ones, keep nfar
Jesus. In the valley where you dwell the
storm may be raging fiercely, but the moun¬
tain tops above you are bathed ia light. Look
up. There is light above, light even for you.
To the weakest life is not all a weary harden,
beneath which they must ever bend. There
is light as weir as shade, rest as well as care,
all along its way, and, precious assurance, you
need not bear your burdens alone. No matter
what your sorrow, look away from it. Look
into other homes, into other hearts, and in
seekiDg to bring the sunshine to other lives,
your own heart will receive a blessing! Look
up. Look to Jesus. Remember all he bas
done for you. Remember the shadowless, tear¬
less home ho has gone to prepare for you,
where there i3 "no need of the Bun, neither
of the moon, to shine in it, for the glory of
God lightens it, and the Lamb is the light
thereof." Nellie.
COME UNTO ME.
Art thou weary ?   Art thou languid ?
Art thou sore distrest ?
" Come to me," saith One, " and coming,
Be at rest!"
Hath he marks to lead me to him,
If he be my Quide ?
"In bis feet and hands are wound-prints,
And his side."
Is there diadem as monarch
That his brow adorns ?
" Yes, a crown in very surety,
But of thorns!"
If I find him, if I follow,
"What his guerdon here ?
" Many a sorrow, many a labor,
Many a tear I"
If I still hold closely to him,
What hath he at last ?
" Sorrow vanquished, labor ended,
Jordan past!"
If I ask him to receive me,
Will he say me nay ?
"Not till earth, and not till heaven
Pass away!"
Tending, following, keeping, struggling,
Is he sure to bless ?
'• Ajegels, martyrs, prophets, pilgrims,
Answer, Yes!"
—From St. Stephen, the Sabaite.
much of Peter's danger lay in that he followed
his Saviour afar off. Had he kept close to his
side, he would not have been tempted to deny
him. The believer often finds himself placed
where his Mister is unpopular, and sometimes
is tempted to desire that Christ's enemies
should not" take knowledge of him that he had
been with Jesus I" In snch an hour we have
need to take warning from Peter's fall, and
find that tears of bitter regret and contrition
will not give us back our lost opportunity.
Doubtless Peter hid in his heart the memory
of that rebuking look to his dying hour. Shall
we not cherish it also, as a guard against
future faithlessness ?    Help us, Lord.
T. S. H.
For the Sunday-School Times.
The Sargasso Sea.
IT is very common for sea-faring people to
amuse themselves by preparing a little paper
containing a description of the precise latitude
and longitude in which they then are, with
any little facts they choose to add, and then
to seal it up securely in a glass bottle and
cast it into the sea. Sometimes a ship's
crew in extremity will find means thus to
communicate with far-off friends, informing
them of their probable fate. Perhaps years
after, when all hope has died out, such a mes¬
sage from the sea may send a thrill through
hearts that are well nigh broken. These
little, silent voyagers tell no tale of their jour¬
ney. The beginning and the ending are the
only facts that are known. Science can con¬
jecture their probable route. A straight line
may be drawn from their starting point to the
spot where they were found, and the time of
the journey estimated, but all their tossings
and doublings back and forth can never be
known. There is this fact, however, peculiar
about these little navigators. Of hundreds
which have been picked up, whether thrown
into the water in the extreme north, or the far
south, near the coast of Europe, Africa, or
America, all have tended toward the Sargasso
Sea, or the Gulf Stream. And so whatever
in the Atlantic waters is left to its own free
course seems to take the same direction.
How like the bent which unguided souls
are sure to take! However different their
early starting point3 may be, however various
their early surroundings, all speed on towards
the resistless current which bears them down
to ruin. When Columbus first crossed the
great waters, he came upon this singular sea
of drift-wood and sea-weed, seeming at the
distance solid enough to walk on, and so
densely matted as to impede the progress of
vessels. That great Sargasso Sea has re¬
mained ever since, tossing its waters up and
down, according to the bidding of the winds
and streams. And so ever since Adam left the
garden have human souls been drifting away
towards a more fearful gulf of destruction.
The current rushes on so slowly and steadily
that its power is never suspected. The soul
puts forth no effort for its rescue. The motion
is easy and pleasant, the surroundings full of
new interest every hour, and so it drifts on
until it finds itself entangled in meshes from
which there is no escape. There are shat¬
tered, tempest-tost wrecks on every hand, but
tbey can afford no succor.
Jesus is the only Pilot who can guide us
safely over life's ocean. His hand is the only
sure chart, where all the dangers of the course
are plainly laid down before us. Trust your¬
self wholly to the guidance of this heavenly
Pilot, and he will bring you safely to the de
Bired haven.
For the Sunday-School Times.
THE REBUKE.
"And the lord turned and looked on Peter."
WHO can guess what that sad look em¬
bodied? Betrayed by one disciple, and
all but Peter having fled in terror, lest they
also should be partakers of tbe dread doom
which awaited their Master, behold this most
earnest of his followers, who had sworn to go
with him to prison or to death, following him
"afar off!" Both for hia love's sake and his
oath's sake, Peter " desired to see the end."
And yet, although the most self-confident, the
most vehement in protestations of affection,
the most fearless in danger, even he could not
confront the horrors, big with darkness, which
were settling down over his beloved Lord.
From his height of blasphemy, which found
utterance in " I never knew this man," our
hearts recoil.
The tender Saviour had nought of reproach
for the friend who had thus denied him. But
that last sad look I Oh what depth of ten¬
derness and questioning wonderment it con¬
tained ! It seemed to say, " Was it for this I
sought thee when a stranger; for this I washed
thy feet but yesterday?" What wonder that
the heart of this wandering disciple was
pierced with deepest sorrow and contrition,
and that he "wept bitterly ?"
Let us, as disciples of Jesus, take note, that
For the Sunday-School-Times.
HEARING SERMONS.
A POOR, working woman was once asked
how she liked a sermon which she had
heard. Her answer 'was, that she was
delighted with it, and that it did her a great
deal of good. When interrogated more par¬
ticularly with regard to it, she could neither
tell the text nor give any account of the mat¬
ter of the discourse. Her questioner then
asked what good the sermon had done her
when she could remember nothing about it ?
" I will tell you," said she. " The sermons I
hear are like the water which I throw upon
my linen. The sun soon dries it off. But I
dash on more. And I find that my cloth
becomes whiter and whiter. I cannot notice
thai a single wetting and drying makes much
difference in my linen, but I keep throwing on
the water as the sun dries it, and after awhile
it is nicely bleached."
Was not that good and true philosophy ?
We sometimes talk about " digesting" ser¬
mons, but is there any such operation of the
mind? True, we can and ought to meditate
upon the Word of God and the preached
gospel, bat surely we cannot hear too many
sermons, or read the Bible too much. Some¬
times one sermon is better than two, but there
is no danger of overloading the mind as we
overload the stomach. Good preaching does
us good even when we do not remember it.
The truth of God sanctifies us even though the
words of Scripture do not remain in our
minds. When we receive good impressions
and good impulses, even though we know not
the spoken words which produced them, stijl
we are benefitted and blessed Christians
who have no memory may be sanctified, and
that too very rapidly. Persons may be able
to repeat from memory whole discourses
which they have heard, and yet not be pro¬
fited by the preaching. Their ears may be
open, and their minds may retain what they
hear, while their hearts are closed.
How, my reader, is it with you ? Does the
faithful preaching of the gospel always do you
good? Does the good Word of God make
you stronger, purer, and happier from Sabbath
to Sabbath, and from day to day ? « Take
heed how ye hear." J. P. H.
For the Sunday-School Times.
LITTLE BY LITTLE.
WE are not made ourselves by great events,
nor do we make others by separate
events and determinations. It was the glory
and beauty of the great and good Dr. Arnold
of Rugby, that, whether he bathed with his
scholars at evening, or walked with them at
noonday, or preached to them on Sunday, they
felt at all seasons the gentle influence of a
good and true Christian man. There was no try¬
ing to be a power. He let his life work speak,
and the result is known. " Little by little" is
the law of Nature's influence. It is the motto
of the dew, the lesson of the light; and in the
manifold quickenings of the spring, and the
glorious unfoldings of the summer, you cannot
watch the steps of progress—it is " here a
little and there a little." Thus we influence
others, and are influenced by them. So the
son becomes like his father, and the school¬
boy like his class-mate, and the daughter like
her mother. Seek for some great thing to do;
and where will you discover it ? Set to work
at a great reading, a great visiting, a great
writing; and what have you achieved? Yet
try silent and steady working, and then how
vast the achievement!
When the good Samaritan gave his loving
help to the man who had fallen among thieves,
he evidently obeyed only the law of hia na¬
ture, and did that which he was accustomed
to do. It waB a little act, an unobtrusive
deed, done in a quiet way; consequently the
record of his deed has moulded the lives of
many more. Just a word here and a word
there, a visit here and a visit there, a little
kind deed here and another there, and jou
are a missionary of Christ, a friend of the sor¬
rowful, a helper of the needy.
Alas 1 how we all seek for some great thing
to do, forgetful of the fact that an earnest and
holy life acts like quiet sunlight and gentle
air, and that in living near to God ourselves,
everything in our life has been a telling quan¬
tity, though we may not see it so to be. No
Christian man would be, or could be, what he
is, without those little meditations, prayers,
submissions, and £ elf-conquests which have
been all blended together in the formation of
his Christian life.—The Quiver.
" Never any more wonder," says an old
writer, " that men pray so seldom; for there
are very few that feel the relish, and are en¬
ticed, with the deliciousness, and refreshed
with the comforts, and acquainted with 'he
secrets of a holy prajer."
Not what we give, but what it cos^s us to
give, is the measure of oar generosity.
DESPISED CHASTENINGS.
By  Rev.  Joseph  Aldbn,   D.   D.
TITHAT a great change has taken place
" " in Mr. Scarsdale I" said Mr. Robert¬
son to Elwell, as Mr. Scarsdale passed them
as they were taking an evening walk. They
both greeted him kindly, but he scarcely no¬
ticed them as he kept on his way.
"In what respect has he changed?" said
Mr. Elwell.
"He used to be one of the most polite and
gentle of men in his manners, and now he is
rude almost to fierceness. He used to be very
benevolent: but now he seems utterly indif¬
ferent to the welfare of others."
" Property often renders men selfish. He is
quite a prosperous man I understand."
" If success in accumulating property con¬
stitutes prosperity, he may be regarded as a
prosperous man."
" I remember that Chief Justice Jay said
that he knew of few things more dangerous
than a long course of uninterrupted pros¬
perity."
" The remark is no doubt a true one. So
far as Scarsdale is concerned, I don't think
that pecaniary prosperity is the main cause of
the change I have spoken of. I think his
case famishes a sad illustration of the conse¬
quences following the neglect of the precept,
'Despise not thou the chastening of tbe
Lord.' He has been severely afflicted, but
his afflictions have not produced the peace¬
able fruits of righteousness, and do not seem
likely to work out for him a far more exceed¬
ing and eternal weight of glory."
"Why is it that in some cases afflictions
seem to improve the character, and in other
cases, seem to injure it?"
" It would be difficult to give a general an¬
swer to that question. The effect of afflictions
on the soul depends upon the manner in
which they are received. If it be asked, why
some receive them in such a manner that they
benefit the soul, no general answer can be
given. In individual cases, the causes of a
particular course of action can, to some ex¬
tent, be pointed out. In Mr. Scar9dale's case,
we have some clue to hia unhappy mode of
meeting his afflictions."
"What is that clue, or to what was it
owing?"
" It was owing in part, at least, to false
views in theology."
" He is a professor'of religion then ?"
"Yes, he ia a professor of religion, and I
trus he is really a follower of Christ, though
at present he seems to be following him like
Peter, afar off. He became interested at an
early age in the study of natural philosophy.
He became delighted with the order and uni-
formiu cf nature's laws. He had received no
early instruction in religious truth. A little
after he was twenty-one years of age, he was
awakened and hopefully converted. Por some
time he made rapid progress in holiness. He
received the truth with the spirit of a little
child. To his natural genial disposition and
pleasant manners, grace gave an additional
charm. After a while, he began to speculate
concerning the doctrines of revelation, and
formed some crude notions. He rejected al¬
together the doctrine of a special providence j
in fact, he would scarcely admit that Provi¬
dence had anything more to do with the world
and what it contains except to create it and
give to each department uniform and un¬
changing laws. He could not see how God
could control all events, except by miraculous
interference. As it is confessed that miracu¬
lous interference has ceased, he could not see
God's hand in the events taking place around
bim. He had a dear son taken from bim just
as he began to show signs of extraordinary
promise. It was a staggering blow, but be
did not see God's hand in it. Soon after, a
beloved sister was taken away, and not long
after, his wife. His sufferings were great, but
he did not recognize God's hand in them. He
met them rather as the stern visitings of fate
than as the loving chastisements of his hea¬
venly Father. When this view was pressed
upon him, he became irritated, and made use
of expressions which, as well as his bearing,
might justly be considered as despising the
chastening of the Lord. As he is, I believe, a
Christian, I expect to see him take juster
views of the divine government, and submit
with childlike meekness to the visitings of
affliction."
For the Sunday-School Times.
"Yon Never Told Me.M
WILL you come with me and see poor
Clara ?    Step softly, and with a solemn
tread, for Death is here.
Hark I how sbe moans. See how wildly
she throws her arms, and how bloodshot is
that once beautiful black eye. Hear her
Shriek, " father, mother, why didn't yon teU
me ?" " Tell j ou what, daughter ?" asks the
agonized father.
" Tell me there was a hell I"
" There is none, Clara, none for you; Go*
is merciful; there is no hell I"
"There is, there is; I feel it; I know it;
my feet are stepping into it; I am lost, lost,
and you never told me!
So died a beautifal girl of eighteen sum¬
mers, a child of irreligious parents, who had
taught her all bat the true wisdom; who
blindly making her their idol, were left to
hear her dying reproaches, and anguished
cries.
Shall our children ever confront us with the
cry, • you never told me?" Hilk-n.
To stumble is human; to rise again, Chris¬
tian : to persevere in Bin is devilish.