NATHANAEL AND NAOMI. IN Benares, a large city in India, there lived a man called Ram Ratten. He was a famous Hindoo, and had been an earnest worshipper of idols. One day a tract was put into his hand. He read it, was struck with what he read, and wished to hear more of the truth it contained. So he went about to find a teacher, and was directed to a missionary. At first he was too proud to give up all idea of his own merit, and to believe in Jesus Christ. He left the missionary, therefore, and joined the enemies of the Gospel. But he knew too much to be easy in the worship of idols; and as he could find no peace, he soon went back to the missionhouse, and confessed that he could resist the truth no longer. From that time he lived as a true Christian, and was baptized by the name of Nathanael, a name which he himself had chosen, because he wished to be a man, “in whom there was no guile." His wife, like all Hindoo women, could neither read nor write. Nathanael felt very much for her, and earnestly prayed that the Lord might open her heart, as he opened the heart of Lydia. But whenever he talked with her, she would say, "Do you really believe that God has sent his Son to die for us? I cannot. If we had been good people then I would believe it, but He could not have let His Son die for such sinners as we are." But God was about to knock louder and louder at the door of her heart. First, He did this by the preaching of the Gospel. Then He pressed home its truths, by taking away her husband, who died with joyful faith. The widow wept, but still her heart remained hard and unbelieving. A third time God knocked. One of her sons became ill and died. Once more she wept, but it was for her son, not for her sins. A second son died; but even this did not bring her to the Saviour, though she mourned very much on account of her loss. She had now but one child left. At length he died also. This stroke laid her low, and brought her to the Saviour. In bitter grief she cried, "It is enough, Lord, it is enough. I humble myself before thee, and give myself up to thee." From this time she placed her entire trust in Christ. At her baptism she wished to be called Naomi; "for," she said, "the Lord has treated me as he did Naomi, I went out full and now I am empty." "It is good for me that I have been afflicted, that I might learn thy statutes." THE SABBATH-A DAY OF GLADNESS AND NOT OF GLOOM. IT is a favourite ruse of the opponents of the Sabbath, to try and make it appear that we "the Sabbatarians," are a race of gloomy fanatics: that we hate all pleasure ourselves, and wish to make other people as miserable as we are-that we are men of low tastes, that we cannot admire the beauty of nature, or pictures, or works of art-that we stand between the people and pleasure—and, if we had our will, would turn the whole world into a place of lamentation, and weeping, and woe. It may be as well to state here that this is all pure imagination. We have no objection to pictures at all, nor to museums, nor to works of art; we simply say there are six days for these, and the like purposes, but the seventh day is the Lord's Sabbath. We say that a thing may be very laudable to be done on Saturday, that may be very wicked if done on the Sabbath. We say, for instance, that a Saturday band in the Parks, or in any public place where people most do congregate, would be a very good thing for "the people," and for "the working classes," and, therefore, we are labouring hard to get a Saturday halfholiday for this, or the like lawful purpose; but we say, at the same time, that to change the day is to change the nature of the thing. Then our Sabbath is a gladness, and not a gloom. The only shade that comes over our Sabbath is this-that so many of our dear fellow-citizens, and fellow-subjects, are not as happy as we are. Oh, what a mistake! We fanatics! We sour, gloomy, morose, men! Why, some of us, long ago, when beaten with rods, and with our feet made fast in the stocks, and in the inner dungeon of a prison, were so glad and happy that, at midnight, we were waking and singing for joy! We gloomy! Indeed we are not. The man knows not joy who never tasted our joy. My brother, knowest thou joy in God, peace in believing, the peace that passeth all understanding, the love of God in the soul, and God's face shining ever on thy head-knowest thou what all that is? Oh, the joy of a well spent Sabbath-day! There be many that say, "who will shew us any good." I have heard them. I have seen the weary, weary, Sabbathbreakers coming home at eventide with sorrow in their soul, jaded in body, and miserable in heart. Their whole man spoke, saying, "who will shew us any good?" They had sought it, and found it not. The well, at which they tried to draw, was both deep and dry. We know where to find it. "Lord, lift Thou up the light of Thy countenance upon us. Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than in the time that their corn and their wine increased." What should make us gloomy? We have no want. Our God supplies all our need. Our praise is simply the expression of our soul's joy. Nothing can harm us. God keeps us as the apple of His eye. We are possessed of the love of God. We are heirs of a kingdom that never passes away. Life has no fear for us. Death has no terror for us. The sting of death is taken away for us. The grave to us is not dark. The great white throne has no dread in it for us. We are in possession of that perfect love that casteth out fear. Come with us, we will do thee good. Come and see; taste for yourself. "For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than to dwell in the tents of wickedness. For the Lord God is a Sun and Shield: the Lord will give grace and glory: no good thing will He withhold from them that walk uprightly. O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in Thee." CEYLON. FROM recent reports of the operations of Church of England missionaries in Ceylon, we extract an illustration of the difficulties which withstand the work of conversion to Christ:: Too Old to change. May 2, 1854.-About four o'clock I went out with the Tamil schoolmaster to visit some of the Tamil Christians and others. Most of the men who were members of the congregation were, however, at their employment. At one house we had a long conversation with an old man, the father-in-law of one of our communicants. He said he was too old to change his religion; his daughter had done 80, but he was too old. I replied, "If a man has been travelling in the wrong road, will he not turn back when he is conscious of the mistake, although he may have travelled a long distance?" He said, "Yes." "Or if you were very poor, and had lived many years in poverty, and then some one were to offer you a gift of money, would you refuse it, and say you were too old to receive it ?" "No." "Then," I said, "God has sent to show you the right road to glory and happiness through His Son Jesus Christ, whom He gave up to die for us, and you should not say you are too old to seek the way to heaven, or to accept Jesus Christ." He then said that "all religions were alike good and right for those who professed them." But this was answered by telling him that such could not be the case, as the religion of the book of God was quite opposed to heathenism, and two roads directly opposite could not both lead to the same place. One of his sons, a lad about fourteen, could read a little English, so I opened the Testament at Matt. xxii., and heard him read verses 11-14. This gave me an opportunity of showing that we must come to God in His own way, through His Son our Saviour, or we shall be cast away at last. THERE SHALL BE NO NIGHT THERE. No night of DARKNESS e'er shall come, For God shall be its light divine. THE DYING SOLDIER'S LAST PRAYER. N the evening of the 5th of November 1854, after the glorious victory of Inkerman, there was found in the enclosure formed by the tents of our brave Allies a large number of killed and wounded; the Russians were the most numerous. The English had already collected theirs, and were helping the French to raise their soldiers who had fallen on that bloody field. The earth was strewed with corpses. Some of the faces seemed to smile, some seemed to sleep, others looked fierce, some had received the mortal blow whilst in the act of tearing the cartridge, and still remained kneeling, convulsively grasp ing their weapon; the arms of some were raised, as if they sought even in dying to deal a blow, or as if they were uttering a prayer with their last breath. The wind blew strongly, and the moon, darkened every now and then by thick clouds, burst forth at intervals, and illumined this sad spectacle, seeming to reanimate the long rows of dead bodies. The silence of the night was disturbed by the cries of the Vor. VI. No X. OCTOBER 1856. |