"P" Feathers

PEACE—of a Believer The believer's peace is like a river for continuance. Look at it, rising as a little brook among the mosses of the lone green hill; by-and-by it leaps as a rugged cataract; anon it flows along that fair valley where the red deer wanders, and the child loves to play. With hum of pleasant music the brook turns the village mill. Hearken to its changeful tune as it ripples over its pebbly bed, or leaps adown the wheel, or sports in eddies where the trees bend down their branches to kiss the current. Anon the streamlet has become a river, and bears upon its flood full many a craft. Then its bosom swells, bridges with noble arches span it, and, grown vaster still, it becomes an estuary, broad enough to be an arm of old Father Ocean, pouring its water-floods into the mighty main. The river abides the lapse of ages, it is no evanescent morning cloud, or transient rain-flood, but in all its stages it is permanent.

"Men may come, and men may go, But I flow on for ever."

Evermore, throughout all generations, the river speedeth to its destined place. Such is the peace of the Christian. He has always reason for comfort. He has not a consolation like a swollen torrent which is dried up under the hot sun of adversity, but peace is his rightful possession at all times. Do you enquire for the Thames? You shall find it flowing in its own bed in the thick black night, as well as in the clear bright day. You shall discover the noble river when it mirrors the stars or sends back the sheen of the moon, as well as when multitudes of eyes gaze upon the pompous pageantry of civic procession at midday. You may see its waves in the hour of tempest by the lightning's flash, as well as in the day of calm when the sun shineth brightly on them. Ever is the river in its place. And even thus, come night, come day, come sickness, come health, come what will, the peace of God which passeth all understanding will keep the Christian's heart and mind, through Jesus Christ. Nor must we exclude the idea of progress. You can leap the Thames at Cricklade, for the tiny brook is spanned by a narrow plank across which laughing village girls are tripping; but who thinks of laying down a plank at Southend, or at Grays? No, the river has grown—how deep! At the mouth of it, comparable to the sea—how broad! There go the ships, and even leviathan might play therein. Such is the Christian's peace. At the first, little temptations avail to mar it, and the troubles of life threaten to evaporate it. Be not dismayed, but quietly wait. When the Christian is somewhat grown, and has wandered for awhile along the tortuous course of a gracious experience, his peace will gather force like a flowing stream. Wait twenty or thirty years, till he has traversed yonder rich lowlands of fellowship with Christ in his sufferings, and conformity to his death, and you shall mark that the believer's rest will be like a river deep and broad, for he shall know the peace which was our Master's precious legacy; and he will cast all his care upon God, who careth for him. True peace will increase till it melts into the eternal rest of the beatific vision, where

"Not a wave of trouble rolls Across the peaceful breast."

PEACE—False YOUR peace, sinner, is that terribly prophetic calm which the traveller occasionally perceives upon the higher Alps. Everything is still. The birds suspend their notes, fly low, and cower down with fear. The hum of bees among the flowers is hushed. A horrible stillness rules the hour, as if death had silenced all things by stretching over them his awful sceptre. Perceive ye not what is surely at hand? The tempest is preparing; the lightning will soon cast abroad its flames of fire. Earth will rock with thunder-blasts; granite peaks will be dissolved; all nature will tremble beneath the fury of the storm. Yours is that solemn calm to-day, sinner. Rejoice not in it, for the hurricane of wrath is coming, the whirlwind and the tribulation which shall sweep you away and utterly destroy you.

PEACE OF PARDON—Not a Mere Forgetfulness

I have spilled the ink over a bill and so have blotted it till it can hardly be read, but this is quite another thing from having the debt blotted out, for that cannot be till payment is made. So a man may blot his sins from his memory, and quiet his mind with false hopes, but the peace which this will bring him is widely different from that which arises from God's forgiveness of sin through the satisfaction which Jesus made in his atonement. Our blotting is one thing, God's blotting out is something far higher.

PERFECTION—Marred by the World The bloom of the hawthorn or White May looks like snow in Richmond Park, but nearer London or by the road side its virgin whiteness is sadly stained. Too often contact with the world has just such an effect upon our piety; we must away to the far off garden of Paradise to see holiness in its unsullied purity, and meanwhile we must be much alone with God if we would maintain a gracious life below.

PERSECUTION The cold water of persecution is often thrown on the church's face to fetch her to herself when she is in a swoon of indolence or pride.

PERSECUTION.—Not to be Feared Do not fear the frown of the world. When a blind man comes against you in the street you are not angry at him, you say, He is blind, poor man, or he would not have hurt me. So you may say of the poor worldlings when they speak evil of Christians—they are blind.—M'Cheyne.

PERSEVERANCE

"A poor woman had a supply of coal laid at her door by a charitable neighbour. A very little girl came out with a small fire-shovel, and began to take up a shovelful at a time, and carry it to a sort of bin in the cellar. I said to the child, 'Do you expect to get all that coal in with that little shovel?' She was quite confused at my question, but her answer was very striking, 'Yes, sir, if I work long enough!'"

Humble worker, make up for your want of ability by abundant continuance in well-doing, and your life-work will not be trivial. The repetition of small efforts will effect more than the occasional use of great talents.

PERSEVERANCE—in Doing Good An old man in Watton, whom Mr. Thornton had in vain urged to come to church, was taken ill and confined to his bed. Mr. Thornton went to the cottage, and asked to see him. The old man, hearing his voice below, answered, in no very courteous tone, "I don't want you here, you may go away." The following day the curate was again at the foot of the stairs. "Well, my friend, may I come up to-day, and sit beside you?" Again he received the same reply, "I don't want you here." Twenty-one days successively Mr. T. paid his visit to the cottage, and on the twenty-second his perseverance was rewarded. He was permitted to enter the room of the aged sufferer, to read the Bible, and pray by his bedside. The poor man recovered, and became one of the most regular attendants at the house of God.—Memoirs of Rev. Spencer Thornton.

PERSEVERANCE—Necessity of In the heathery turf you will often find a plant chiefly remarkable for its peculiar roots; from the main stem down to the minutest fibre, you will find them all abruptly terminate, as if shorn or bitten off, and the quaint superstition of the country people alleges, that once on a time it was a plant of singular potency for healing all sorts of maladies, and therefore the great enemy of man in his malignity bit off the roots, in which its virtues resided. The plant with this odd history, is a very good emblem of many well-meaning but little-effecting people. They might be defined as radicibus praemorsis, or rather inceptis succisis. The efficacy of every good work lies in its completion, and all their good works terminate abruptly, and are left off unfinished. The devil frustrates their efficacy by cutting off their ends; their unprofitable history is made up of plans and projects, schemes of usefulness that were never gone about, and magnificent undertakings that were never carried forward; societies that were sot agoing, then left to shift for themselves, and forlorn beings who for a time were taken up and instructed, and just when they were beginning to show symptoms of improvement were cast on the world again.—James Hamilton, D.D.

PERSONAL EFFORT—Needed for Success

According to Christ's law, every Christian is to be active in spreading the faith, which was delivered, not to the ministers, but to the saints, to every one of them, that they might maintain it, and spread it according to the gift which the Spirit has given them. Shall I venture a parable? A certain band of warlike knights had been exceedingly victorious in all their conflicts. They were men of valour and of indomitable courage; they had carried everything before them, and subdued province after province for their king. But on a sudden they said in the council-chamber, "We have at our head a most valiant warrior, one whose arm is stout enough to smite down fifty of his adversaries; would it not be better if, leaving a few such as he to go out to the fight, the mere men-at-arms, who make up the ordinary ranks, were to rest at home? We should be much more at our ease; our horses would not so often be covered with foam, nor our armour be bruised, the many would enjoy abundant leisure, and great things would be done by the valiant few." Now, the foremost champions, with fear and trembling, undertook the task and went to the conflict, and they fought well, as the rolls of fame can testify; to the best of their ability they unhorsed their foes and performed great exploits. But still, from the very hour in which that scheme was planned and carried out no city was taken, no province was conquered. Then the knights met together, and said, "How is this? Our former prestige is departed, our ranks are broken, our pennons are trailed in the dust, what is the cause of it?" When outspoke the champion, and said, "Doubtless it is so, and for a reason clear and plain. How did you think that a slender band could do the work of all the thousands? When you all went to the fight, and every man took his share, we dashed upon the foe like an avalanche, and crushed him beneath our tramp; but now that you stay at home, and put us, who are but a handful, to fight every battle, how can you expect that great things should be done?" So each man resolved to put on his helmet and his armour once again, and hasten to the battle, and lo, the angel of victory returned.

If we are to subdue the earth, every one of us must join in the fight. We must not exempt a single soldier of the cross, neither man nor woman, rich nor poor; but each must fight for the Lord Jesus according to his ability, that his kingdom may come, and that his will may be done in earth even as it is in heaven. We shall see great things when all agree to this and put it in practice.

PERSONAL WORK

I once heard a story of an American, who declared he could right the whole British army, and when he was asked how he could draw so long a bow as that, he said, "Why, this is what I would do: I know I am the best swordsman in the world, so I would go and challenge one Britisher, and kill him; then take another, and kill him. Thus," said he, "I only want time enough and I would kill the whole British army." It was a ridiculous boast, but there is something in it which I could not bring out so well in any other way. If we want to conquer the world for the Lord Jesus Christ, rest assured we must do it in the Yankee's fashion; we must take men one by one, and these ones must be brought to Christ, or otherwise the great mass must remain untouched. Do not imagine for a moment that you are going to convert a nation at once; you are to convert the men of that nation, one by one, through the power of God's Holy Spirit. It is not for you to suit your machinery, and arrange your plans for the moving of a mass as such, you must look to the salvation of the units.

POOR—as Hearers

John Wesley always preferred the middling and lower classes to the wealthy. He said, "If I might choose, I should still, as I have done hitherto, preach the gospel to the poor." Preaching in Monktown church, a large old, ruinous building, he says, "I suppose it has scarce had such a congregation during this century. Many of them were gay, genteel people, so I spoke on the first elements of the gospel, but I was still out of their depth. Oh, how hard it is to be shallow enough for a polite audience!"—Anecdotes of the Wesleys.

POPERY

Lightfoot observes:—"Yoke-fellows, indeed, are the Jew and Romanist above all people of the world, in a deluded fancying their own bravery and privilege above all the world besides. He that comes to read the Jewish writings, especially those that are of the nature of sermons, will find this to be the main stuffing of them, almost in every leaf and page. 'How choice a people is Israel! how dearly God is in love with Israel! what a happy thing it is to be of the seed of Abraham! how blessed the nation of the Jews above all nations!' And such stuff as this all along. And is not the style of the Romanists the very same tune? 'How holy the Church of Rome! what superiority and pre-eminence hath the church above all churches, and all the men in the world are heretics, and apostates, and cast-aways, if they be not Romanists.' Whereas if both these people would but impartially look upon themselves, they would see that there are such brands upon them as are upon no nation under heaven now extant."

POSITION—No Barrier to Grace

Grace makes itself equally at home in the palace and he cottage. No condition necessitates its absence, no position precludes its nourishing. One may compare it in its power to live and blossom in all places to the beautiful blue-bell of Scotland, of which the poetess sings:—

"No rock is too high, no vale too low, For its fragile and tremulous form to grow:

It crowns the mountain With azure bells, And decks the fountain In forest dells.

It wreathes the ruin with clusters grey, Bowing and smiling the livelong day."

PRACTICE—Necessary to Perfection A neighbour near my study persists in practising upon the flute. He bores my ears as with an auger, and renders it almost an impossibility to think. Up and down his scale he runs remorselessly, until even the calamity of temporary deafness would almost be welcome to me. Yet he teaches me that I must practise if I would be perfect; must exercise myself unto godliness if I would be skilful; must, in fact, make myself familiar with the word of God, with holy living, and saintly dying. Such practice, moreover, will be as charming as my neighbour's flute is intolerable.

PRAYER—and Activity

"A scholar at a boarding-school near London was remarked for repeating her lessons well. A school companion, who was idly inclined, said to her one day, 'How is it that you always say your lessons so perfectly?' She replied, 'I always pray that I may say my lessons well.' 'Do you?' replied the other,' then I'll pray too.' But, alas! next morning she could not repeat one word of her lesson. Very much confounded, she ran to her friend. 'I prayed,' said she, 'but I could not repeat a word of my lesson.' 'Perhaps,' rejoined the other, 'you took no pains to learn it.' 'Learn it! learn it!' answered the first, 'I did not learn it at all. I didn't know I needed to learn it, when I prayed that I might say it.' She loved her idleness, poor girl; and her praying was but a mockery."

PRAYER—Believing Is it not a sad thing that we should think it wonderful for God to hear prayer? Much better faith was that of a little boy in one of the schools in Edinburgh, who had attended a prayer-meeting, and at last said to his teacher who conducted it," Teacher, I wish my sister could be got to read the Bible; she never reads it." "Why, Johnny, should your sister read the Bible?" "Because if she should once read it, I am sure it would do her good, and she would be converted and be saved." "Do you think so, Johnny?" "Yes, I do, sir, and I wish the next time there's a prayer-meeting, you would ask the people to pray for my sister that she may begin to read the Bible." "Well, well, it shall be done, John." So the teacher gave out that a little boy was very anxious that prayer should be offered that his sister might begin to read the Bible. John was observed to get up and go out. The teacher thought it very rude of the boy to disturb the people in a crowded room, and so the next day when the lad came, he said, "John, I thought it was very rude of you to get up in the prayer-meeting and go out. You ought not to have done so." "Oh, sir," said the boy, "I did not mean to be rude; but I thought I should just like to go home and see my sister reading her Bible for the first time."

Thus we ought to believe, and watch with expectation for answers to our prayer. Do not say, "Lord, turn my darkness into light," and then go out with your candle as though you expected to find it dark. After asking the Lord to appear for you, expect him to do so, for according to your faith so be it unto you.

PRAYER—for Help to Pray In Dr. Ryland's memoir of Andrew Fuller is the following anecdote. At a conference at Soham, a friend of slender abilities being asked to pray, knelt down, and Mr. Fuller and the company with him, when he found himself so embarrassed, that, whispering to Mr. Fuller, he said, "I do not know how to go on." Mr. F. replied in a whisper, "Tell the Lord so." The rest of the company did not hear what passed between them, but the man taking Mr. Fuller's advice began to confess his not knowing how to pray as he ought to pray, begging to be taught to pray, and so proceeded in prayer to the satisfaction of all the company.

PRAYER—Helpful to Study In Payson's diary is the following entry: "Sept. 23.—Was quite dull and lifeless in prayer, and in consequence had no success in study."

PRAYER—its Power Against Satan

There is a huge rock upon the Swiss side of the St. Cothard road, about which an old legend is told by the natives of the neighbouring village. The devil was whisking this enormous stone along very merrily at early dawn of day, when he was met by a devout old woman, who being somewhat alarmed, uttered a prayer at the sight of the unexpected traveller. Such was the power of her prayer, that the demon dropped his burden at once, and there it lies, an indisputable proof that the devil is no match for old ladies who know how to invoke the aid of heaven. Mother Church has sanctioned many a worse legend than this, for a truthful moral lies upon the surface. Let interceding believers make the fiend tremble always, by praying without ceasing. The weakest saint upon his knees is victorious over all the powers of hell.

PRAYER—its Power to Soften Asperities

"Two neighbours, a cooper and a farmer, were spending the evening together. Both were professors of religion, but of different communions. Their conversation was first upon topics relating to practical religion, but after a time it diverged to the points of difference between the two denominations to which they belonged. It first became a discussion, and then a dispute. The cooper was the first to perceive its unprofitable and injurious tendency, and remarked, 'We are springing apart from each other, let us put on another hoop—let us pray.' They kneeled down and prayed together, after which they spent the remainder of the evening lovingly together, conversing on the things of the kingdom in which they both felt an equal interest. The suggestion of the cooper was an excellent one, and it were well if it were acted on more frequently by those who, like him, are members of the household of Christ."

PRAYER—Sweet Uses of On the first of May in the olden times, according to annual custom, many inhabitants of London went into the fields to bathe their faces with the early dew upon the grass under the idea that it would render them beautiful. Some writers call the custom superstitious; it may have been so, but this we know, that to bathe one's face every morning in the dew of heaven by prayer and communion, is the sure way to obtain true beauty of life and character.

PRAYER—Simile of

Prayer pulls the rope below and the great bell rings above in the cars of God. Some scarcely stir the bell, for they pray so languidly; others give but an occasional pluck at the rope; but he who wins with heaven is the man who grasps the rope boldly and pulls continuously, with all his might.

PRAYERS—of a Father

Philip James Spener had a son of eminent talents, but perverse and extremely vicious. All means of love and persuasion were without success. The father could only pray, which he continued to do, that the Lord might yet be pleased to save his son at any time and in any way. The son fell sick; and while lying on his bed in great distress of mind, nearly past the power of speech or motion, he suddenly started up, clasped his hands, and exclaimed: "My father's prayers, like mountains, surround me!" Soon after his anxiety ceased a sweet peace spread over his face, his malady came to a crisis, and the son was saved in body and soul. He became another man. Spener lived to see his son a respectable man, in public office, and happily married. Such was the change of his life after his conversion.—N. E. Puritan.

PREACHER—Learns by Communion with God

IT is related that one of his hearers once asked, "How is it that Mr. Bramwell always has something that is new to tell us when he preaches?" "Why," said the person interrogated, "you see Brother Bramwell lives so near the gates of heaven that he hears a great many things that we don't get near enough to hear anything about."

PREACHER—Must Feed the People From the deck of an Austrian gunboat we threw into the Lago Garda a succession of little pieces of bread, and presently small fishes came in shoals, till there seemed to be, as the old proverb puts it, more fish than water. They came to feed, and needed no music. Let the preacher give his people food, and they will flock around him, even if the sounding brass of rhetoric, and the tinkling cymbals of oratory are silent.

PREACHER—Must Feed the People

Everybody knows that large flocks of pigeons assemble at the stroke of the great clock in the square of St. Mark: believe me, it is not the music of the bell which attracts them, they can hear that every hour. They come, Mr. Preacher, for food, and no mere sound will long collect them. This is a hint for filling your meeting-house; it must be done not merely by that fine, bell-like voice of yours, but by all the neighbourhood's being assured that spiritual food is to be had when you open your mouth. Barley for pigeons, good sir; and the gospel for men and women. Try it in earnest and you cannot fail; you will soon be saying, "Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as doves to their windows?"

PREACHER—to Avoid a Lofty Style In the town of Goslar, in the Hartz mountains, there is in the principal square a fountain evidently of mediæl date, but the peculiarity of its construction is that no one can reach the water so as to fill a bucket or even get a drink to quench his thirst. Both the jets, and the basin into which they fall, are above the reach of any man of ordinary stature; yet the fountain was intended to supply the public with water, and it fulfils its design by a method which we never saw in use before; every person brings a spout or trough with him long enough to reach the top of the fountain and bring the water down into his pitcher. We are afraid that all our reverence for antiquity did not prevent the full exercise of our risible faculties; sixpennyworth of mason's work with a chisel would have made the crystal stream available to all; but no, every one must bring a trough or go away unsupplied. When preachers of the gospel talk in so lofty a style that each hearer needs to bring a dictionary, they remind us of the absurd fountain of Goslar. The use of six-syllabled jaw-breaking words is simply a most ludicrous vanity. A little labour on the part of such pedants would save a world of profitless toil to their hearers, and enable those uneducated persons who have no means of reaching the preacher's altitude to derive some measure of instruction from his ministry.

PREACHER—Should be Faithful onto Death The minister of Christ should feel like the old keeper of Eddystone lighthouse. Life was failing fast, but summoning all his strength, he crept round once more to trim the lights before he died. May the Holy Ghost enable his servants to keep the beacon fire blazing, to warn sinners of the rocks, shoals, and quicksands which surround them.

PREACHERS—to be Acquainted with Hunan Nature

Michael Angelo, when painting an altar-piece in the conventual church, in Florence, in order that the figures might be as death-like as possible, obtained permission of the prior to have the coffins of the newly-buried opened and placed beside him during the night;—an appalling expedient, but successful in enabling him to reproduce with terrible effect, not the mortal pallor only, but the very anatomy of death. If we would preach well to the souls of men we must acquaint ourselves with their ruined state, must have their case always on our hearts both by night and day, must know the terrors of the Lord and the value of the soul, and feel a sacred sympathy with perishing sinners. There is no masterly, prevailing preaching without this.

PREACHERS—Different

THOSE that are all in exhortation, no whit in doctrine, are like to them that snuff the lamp, but pour not in oil. Again, those that are all in doctrine, nothing in exhortation, drown the wick in oil, but light it not; making it fit for use if it had fire put to it, but as it is, rather capable of good than profitable for the present. Doctrine without exhortation makes men all brain, no heart; exhortation without doctrine makes the heart full, leaves the brain empty. Both together make a man. One makes a wise man, the other good; one serves that we may know our duty, the other that we may perform it. I will labour in both, but I know not in whether more.

Men cannot practise unless they know; and they know in vain if they practise not.—Bishop Hall.

PREACHERS—How they Gain Perspicuity

Mr. Warburton, one of the inspectors of schools, mentions in his report for 1863, that he has nowhere heard such good reading as in a girls' school in Berkshire, than which none in his district bears a better character for instruction in what are called the higher subjects. The clergyman, who is also the acting manager, is rather deaf, and the girls, who are frequently heard by him without book, are obliged to read with unusual clearness and distinctness of tone and articulation, in order that he may not lose a word. The inspector considers the pleasure with which he listened to the girls' reading to be in great measure attributable to the fact of their ordinarily having to make what they read intelligible to one who cannot hear so well as many persons do. The best of teachers are those who have laboured to be understood by the dullest capacities. Preachers who all along have aimed to suit the educated never become so simple or efficient as those who have made a point of explaining even the elements of faith to the ignorant.

PREACHERS—Too Learned for Real Service The great bell of Moscow is too large to be hung, the question arises, what was the use of making it? Some preachers are so learned that they cannot make themselves understood, or else cannot bring their minds to preach plain gospel sermons; here, too, the same question might be asked.

PREACHERS—Not to Preach Themselves

We ascended the Sacro Monte at Orta, expecting to find that its holy hill was like that at Varallo, consecrated to representations of the life of Christ. To our disappointment we found that everything was to the honour and glory of St. Francis of Assisi, who nevertheless was represented as saying, "God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." Too often when the preacher should think only of his Master, and labour only to set forth the Redeemer's glories, he is occupied with his own style and oratory, and so honours himself at the expense of his Lord.

PREACHERS—Speak After Death

There are strange legends extant of churches which have been swallowed by earthquakes, or buried beneath fallen mountains. The rustics declare that they have heard the bells still ringing, far down in the bowels of the earth, just as they did when they hung aloft in the tower. Take the bells to be preachers and the legend is true, for being dead they yet speak, and from their graves they sound forth lessons not less powerful than those with which they made their pulpits resound while they were yet with us.

PREACHING—Best Manner of The celebrated actor Garrick having been requested by Dr. Stonehouse to favour him with his opinion as to the manner in which a sermon ought to be delivered, sent him the following judicious answer:—

"My dear pupil,—You know how you would feel and speak in a parlour concerning a friend who was in imminent danger of his life, and with what energetic pathos of diction and countenance you would enforce the observance of that which you really thought would be for his preservation. You could not think of playing the orator, of studying your emphases, cadences, and gestures, you would be yourself, and the interesting nature of your subject, impressing your heart, would furnish you with the most natural tone of voice, the most proper language, the most engaging features, and the most suitable and graceful gestures. What you would thus be in the parlour, be in the pulpit, and you will not fail to please, to affect, and to profit. Adieu, my dear friend."

PREACHING—Fruit and Flowers At Hampton Court Palace every one regards with wonder the enormous vine loaded with so vast a multitude of huge clusters: just outside the vine-house is as fine a specimen of the wistaria, and when it is in full bloom, the cluster-like masses of bloom, cause you to think it a flower-bearing vine, as the other is a fruit-bearing vine. Fit emblems these two famous trees of two ministries, both admired, but not equally to be prized; the ministry of oratory, luxuriant in metaphor and poetry, and the ministry of grace, abounding in sound teaching and soul saving-energy. Gay as are the flower-clusters of the wistaria, no one mistakes them for the luscious bunches of the grape; yet, there are many simpletons in spiritual things who mistake sound for sense, and seem to satisfy their hunger not on solid meat, but on the jingle of a musical dinner bell.

PREACHING—in Force the Main Consideration

I had tried to drive certain long brass-headed nails into a wall, but had never succeeded except in turning up their points, and rendering them useless. When a tradesman came who understood his work, I noticed that he filed off all the points of the nails, the very points upon whose sharpness I had relied; and when he had quite blunted them, he drove them in as far as he pleased. With some consciences our fine points in preaching are worse than useless. Our keen distinctions and nice discriminations are thrown away on many; they need to be encountered with sheer force and blunt honesty. The truth must be hammered into them by main strength, and we know from whom to seek the needed power.

PREACHING—Need of Prayer and Unction In a Romish book by Father Faber of the Oratory, we find the following:—"Do you remember the story of that religious, a Jesuit I think, who was a famous preacher, and whose sermons converted men by scores? It was revealed to him that not one of the conversions was owing to his talents or eloquence, but all to the prayers of an illiterate lay-brother who sat on the pulpit steps praying all the time for the success of the sermon. There is another story, a very strange one. I will not vouch for its being true, but I will quote it for the sake of the wise teaching it contains. A certain religious, a very popular preacher, was expected one day in a convent of his order, where he was a stranger. In the afternoon he arrived, or rather an evil spirit who personated him, arrived, to see what mischief he could do. It so happened that there was to be a sermon on hell preached that day by one of the monks, but he was ill and unable to preach. So they asked this devil to preach on hell, which he did; and, as may be supposed from his experience, a most wonderful sermon it was. However, on the arrival of the real preacher, the evil one was discovered, and was obliged to disclose himself, and his malicious designs. Among other things he was asked how it was not against his interests to preach such a frightening sermon about hell, as it would keep people from sin. 'Not at all,' he replied, 'there was no unction with it, so it could do no harm!'"

PREACHING—Personal

Two Chinese jugglers have been making a public exhibition of their skill. One of them is set up as a target, and the other shows his dexterity by hurling knives which stick into the board at his comrade's back, close to the man's body. These deadly weapons fix themselves between his arms and legs, and between each of his fingers, they fly past his ears, and over his head, and on each side of his neck. The art is not to hit him. Are there not to be found preachers who are remarkably proficient in the same art in the mental and spiritual departments?

PREDESTINATION

They that talk of nothing but predestination, and will not proceed in the way of heaven till they be satisfied on that point, do as a man that would not come to London, unless at his first step he might set his foot upon the top of St. Paul's.—The Table Talk of John Selden.

PRESUMPTION—Rebuked by Trial

"The Brahmins say that Benares is not a part of this sinful earth; but that it is on the outside of the world. An earthquake, however, which was lately felt there, has rather nonplussed them, as it proves that what shakes the earth, shakes Benares too." It is easy enough for those who have been long at ease to imagine themselves protected from the common lot of men, but a shaking trial in their estates or persons soon convinces them that they are as other men are. Spiritual presumption leads many professors to imagine that they are beyond the power of temptation, and are no longer such frail beings as their fellow Christians; let but the Lord conceal his face, or Satan assail them, and in their sore trouble they will discover that they are men of like passions with the rest.

PRIDE When men refuse to hear the gospel from the lips of a gracious but uneducated preacher, they remind us of the Spaniard in South America, who suffered severely from the gout, but refused to be cured by an Indian. "I know," said he, "that he is a famous man, and would certainly cure me, but he is an Indian, and would expect to be treated with attentions which I cannot pay to a man of colour, and therefore I prefer remaining as I am."

PRIDE—in Dictating to God The petty sovereign of an insignificant tribe in North America every morning stalks out of his hovel, bids the sun good-morrow, and points out to him with his finger the course he is to take for the day. Is this arrogance more contemptible than ours when we would dictate to God the course of his providence, and summon him to our bar for his dealings with us? How ridiculous does man appear when he attempts to argue with his God!

PRIESTS—Superstitious Reverance of A writer on the manners and customs of India, says:—"I was informed that vast numbers of Shoodras drink the water in which a Brahmin has dipped his foot, and abstain from food in the morning till this ceremony be over. Some persons do this every day, and others vow to attend to it for such a time, in order to obtain the removal of disease. Persons may be seen carrying a small quantity of water in a cup, and intreating the first Brahmin they see to put his toe in it. This person then drinks the water, and bows or prostrates to the Brahmin, who gives him a blessing. Some persons keep water thus sanctified in their houses." How few steps would land Tractarians in the same degradation! Their priests are the channels of grace to them, from them they receive regeneration and absolution, and from their hands they receive the god of bread whom they adore and cat. Believing all this of their sacerdotal fathers, to drink the water in which they wash their feet would be no humiliation; their minds have stooped to drink far fouler puddle, they may well put their bodies on the same level.

PROCRASTINATION

It is a snowy day, and some boys have put a few bricks together, making a sort of square box of them; they have set up one on edge on a piece of stick, and have scattered under it a few crumbs. Here comes a robin, and he picks up a crumb or two, and while he is feeding, down comes the brick! "I did not wait long," says the robin, "but I am caught.' I did not wait long, but I cannot get out! I did not wait long, but I have lost my liberty! I did not wait long, but it may be I shall lose my life.'" Ah! little robin, thou shalt be a preacher to some here. They have gone a little into sin, and they are inclined to-night to wait a little while. Take care that this is not your dolorous note one of these days, "I did not wait long, but the devil caught me in his trap! I did not wait long, but I waited loo long! I did not wait long, but I lost my soul for ever!" God grant that this may not be your lot.

PROCRASTINATION In Nebuchadnezzar's image, the lower the members, the coarser the metal: the farther off the time, the more unfit. To-day is the golden opportunity, to-morrow will be the silver season, next day but the brazen one, and so on, till at last I shall come to the toes of clay, and be turned to dust.—Thomas Fuller.

PROCRASTINATION Be not like the foolish drunkard who, staggering home one night, saw his candle lit for him. "Two candles!" said he, for his drunkenness made him see double, "I will blow out one," and as he blew it out, in a moment he was in the dark. Many a man sees double through the drunkenness of sin; he has one life to sow his wild oats in, and then he half expects another in which to turn to God; so, like a fool, he blows out the only candle that he has, and in the dark he will have to lie down for ever. Haste thee, traveller, thou hast but one sun, and after that sets, thou wilt never reach thy home. God help thee to make haste now!

PROCRASTINATION

"A Swiss traveller," says a writer in the Edinburgh Review, "describes a village, situated on the slope of a great mountain, of which the strata shelve in the direction of the place. Huge crags, directly overhanging the village, and massy enough to sweep the whole of it into the torrent below, have become separated from the main body of the mountain in the course of ages by great fissures, and now scarce adhere to it. When they give way, the village must perish; it is only a question of time, and the catastrophe may happen any day. For years past engineers have been sent to measure the width of the fissures, and report them constantly increasing. The villagers, for more than one generation, have been aware of their danger; subscriptions have been once or twice opened to enable them to remove; yet they live on in their doomed dwellings, from year to year, fortified against the ultimate certainty and daily probability of destruction by the common sentiment; 'Things may last their time and longer."'

Like the dwellers in this doomed village, the world's inhabitants have grown careless and secure in sin. The scoffers of the last days are around us, saying," Where is the promise of his coming? For since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation." But in saying this, they are too confident. Nothing is permanent that has sin about it, nothing secure that has wrath above it, and flames of fire beneath it. Sin has once deluged the world with water, it shall deluge it again with waves of fire. Sodom and Gomorrah are the types that foreshadow the doom of those that live ungodly in these latter times, and he who can walk this reeling world unmoved by all the tokens of its fiery doom, must either have a rock of refuge where his soul may rest secure, or else must have fallen into a strange carelessness, and a sad forgetfulness of God.

PROCRASTINATION—Deprecated Do any of you remember the loss of the vessel called the "Central America"? She was in a bad state, had sprung a leak and was going down, and she therefore hoisted a signal of distress. A ship came close to her, the captain of which asked, through the trumpet, "What is amiss?" "We are in bad repair, and are going down: lie by till morning," was the answer. But the captain on board the rescue-ship said, "Let me take your passengers on board now." "Lie by till morning," was the message which came back. Once again the captain cried, "You had better let me take your passengers on board now." "Lie by till morning," was the reply which sounded through the trumpet. About an hour-and-a-half after, the lights were missing, and though no sound was heard, she and all on board had gone down to the fathomless abyss. O unconverted friends, for God's sake, do not say, "Lie by till morning." To-day, even to-day, hear ye the voice of God.

PROFESSION—The Vanity of Mere

Forget not that the pretence of religion without the power of it is one of the most comfortless things in the world. It is like a man who should call his servant, and say to him, "Is the larder well stored?" "There is nothing, sir, not even a mouldy crust." "Lot the cloth be laid," saith he; and it is laid, and all the appurtenances thereof. "And now," he says, "I will sit down to my meal, and you shall wait upon me." The empty dishes are brought in proper course; from invisible joints he cuts imperceptible slices, and from the empty plates he lifts upon his fork mouthfuls of nothingness and dainty morsels of vacuum. There, the cloth can bo removed, the feaster has finished the atmospheric banquet, and rises from the table free from any charge of immoderate eating. Now, this may be a very pleasant operation for once, although its charms require a very poetic and imaginative mind to appreciate them; but if continued several days, this unsubstantial festival would, I conceive, become somewhat undesirable and cheerless, and in the end the guest might perish amid his empty platters. Yet such must be the life of the man who professes to feed on the bread of heaven and knows not its sustaining virtues, who boasts of drinking the water of life and has never sipped that heavenly stream.

PROFESSORS (MERE)—have no Changes

Artificial piety, like flowers in wax, droops not in the hour of drought, but the fair lily of true grace hangs its head if the rain of heaven be denied. True faith, like fire, has its attendant smoke of unbelief, but presumption like a painted flame is all brightness. Like ships at sea, true Christians have their storms; but mere professors, like pictured galleyson the canvas, ride on an unruffled ocean. Life has its changes; 'tis death that abideth the same. Life has muscle, sinew, brain, spirit, and these vary in physical condition; but the petrified limbs of death lie still until the worm has devoured the carcase. Life weeps as well as smiles, but the ghastly grin of death relaxes not with anxiety or fear. Moab hath no changes; he is "settled upon his lees: he has not been emptied from vessel to vessel." "They are not in trouble as other men, neither are they plagued like other men." As no weather can give ague to marble, as no variation of temperature can bring fever to iron, so to some men the events of life, the temptations of prosperity, or the trials of adversity, bring little change. Yet were it better to ebb and flow for ever like the sea, than rot in endless stagnation of false peace. Better to be hunted by the hounds of hell, and so driven to the shelter of the cross, than to dwell at case and be fattening for the devil's shambles.

PROFESSORS—Too Often Deceptive

"In the sweet valley between Chamouni and the Valais, at every turn of the pleasant pathway, where the scent of the thyme lies richest upon its rocks, we shall see a little cross and shrine set under one of them, and go up to it, hoping to receive some happy thought of the Redeemer, by whom all these lovely things were made, and still consist. But when we come near, behold, beneath the cross a rude picture of souls tormented in red tongues of hell fire, and pierced by demons."—Ruskin.

Too often the house of a fair professor turns out to be much the same; the beauty at a distance changes into hideous deformity when near. Oh, to be found, when closest watched, better than observers would at first sight have conceived us to be!

PROGRESS—Measure of

Sailors would be loath to sail without using their log to test their pace, and show their progress. The wonder is that so many Christian professors navigate the sea of life, and are utterly careless whether they are making headway or drifting from their course. Should we not all cast overboard our log? There are various ways by which with readiness we may measure our progress: our prayers, our labours, our patience, our faith, our communion with God, our humility, may all serve as logs by which to measure our sailing pace.

PROMISES

Good old Spurstow says that some of the promises are like the almond tree—they blossom hastily in the very earliest spring; but, saith he, there are others which resemble the mulberry tree—they are very slow in putting forth their leaves. Then What is a man to do, if he has a mulberry tree promise which is late in blossoming? Why, he is to wait till it does. If the vision tarry, wait for it till it come, and the appointed time shall surely bring it.

PROMPTNESS—in Doing Good

Quick must be the hand if an impression is to be made upon the melted wax. Once let the wax cool and you will press the seal in vain. Cold and hard it will be in a few moments, therefore let the work be quickly done. When men's hearts are melted under the preaching of the Word, or by sickness, or the loss of friends, believers should be very eager to stamp the truth upon the prepared mind. Such opportunities are to be seized with holy eagerness. Reader, do you know of such? If you be a lover of the Lord Jesus, hasten with the seal before the wax is cool.

PROPHECY—Too Often Interpreted by Imagination

All along the Oker Thal, in the Hartz, there are huge rocks towering up among the fir-clad hills, to which the peasants have appended names according as they fancy them to bear resemblance to chairs, horses, cobblers, or cocked hats. The likeness in most cases is such as only fancy can. make out when she is in her most vigorous mood, nevertheless this rock must needs be called a man, and that a church, and there has no doubt been many a quarrel between rival observers who have discovered each a different image in the one pile of rock; yet the stones are not churches, chairs, or cobblers, and the whole business is childish and nonsensical. Interpreters of prophecy during the last few centuries have been most of them in the same position; one of them sees in the sublimities of the Revelation the form of Louis Napoleon where two or three hundred years ago half Christendom saw the Pope, and the other half Martin Luther. The other day one of the seers saw Sebastopol in the prophecies, and now another detects the Suez Canal, and we feel pretty sure that the Council at Rome will soon be spied out in Daniel or Ezekiel. The fact is, when fancy is their guide men wander as in a maze. Spiritualistic interpreters see, like children gazing into the fire, not what is really before them, but what is in their own heads. Great truths are in the Prophets and in the precious book of Revelation, but your fanciful theologians turn these sublimities of truth into the toys of children, when they give their imagination license to act as an expositor.

PROSPERITY—Evils of

Too long a period of fair weather in the Italian valleys creates such a superabundance of dust that the traveller sighs for a shower. He is smothered, his clothes are white, his eyes smart, the grit even grates between his teeth and finds its way down his throat; welcome are the rain clouds, as they promise to abate the nuisance. Prosperity long continued breeds a plague of dust even more injurious, for it almost blinds the spirit and insinuates itself into the soul; a shower or two of grief proves a mighty blessing, for it deprives the things of earth of somewhat of their smothering power. A Christian making money fast is just a man in a cloud of dust, it will fill his eyes if he be not careful. A Christian full of worldly care is in the same condition, and had need look to it lest he be choked with earth. Afflictions might almost be prayed for if we never had them, even as in long stretches of fair weather men beg for rain to lay the dust.

PROVIDENCE An old authority assures us that "the Jews fancy, concerning the cloud that conducted Israel through the wilderness, that it did not only show them the way, but also plane it; that it did not only lead them in the way which they must go, but also fit the way for them to go upon it; that it cleared all the mountains and smoothed all the rocks; that it cleared all the bushes and removed all the rubs."

What is probably a mere legend as to the type is abundantly true of the providence of God, which it so accurately represents. Our gracious God not only leads us in the way of mercy, but he prepares our path before us, providing for all our wants even before they occur.

PROVIDENCE—the Guardian of our Weakness That image in Lowell's poem of "The Changeling" fascinates me. It is so much what I am and ever wish to be.

"I feel as weak as a violet Alone 'neath the awful sky."

Unable to defend myself and apparently undefended, yet guarded by omnipotent love, I would fain pour out a perfume of praise to the Great Invisible who watches over me, and would feel that under the care of Providence I may claim the sweetness of the poet's next stanza.

"As weak, yet as trustful also;

Far the whole year long I see All the wonders of faithful nature Still worked for the love of me.

Winds wander and dews drip earthward, Rains fall, suns rise and set, Earth whirls, and all but to prosper A poor little violet."

PROVIDENCE—Rightly Places us

Suppose the mole should cry, "How I could have honoured the Creator had I been allowed to fly!" it would be very foolish, for a mole flying would be a most ridiculous object; while a mole fashioning its tunnels and casting up its castles, is viewed with admiring wonder by the naturalist, who perceives its remarkable suitability to its sphere. The fish of the sea might say, "How could I display the wisdom of God if I could sing, or mount a tree, like a bird;" but a dolphin in a tree would be a very grotesque affair, and there would be no wisdom of God to admire in trouts singing in the groves; but when the fish cuts the wave with agile fin, all who have observed it say how wonderfully it is adapted to its habitat, how exactly its every bone is fitted for its mode of life. Brother, it is just so with you. If you begin to say, "I cannot glorify God where I am, and as I am," I answer, neither could you anywhere if not where you are. Providence, which arranged your surroundings, appointed them so that, all things being considered, you are in the position in which you can best display the wisdom and the grace of God.

PRUDENCE (FALSE)—its Mischief

James the First once said of armour, that "it was an excellent invention, for it not only saved the life of the wearer, but it hindered him from doing harm to anybody else." Equally destructive to all usefulness is that excessive prudence upon which some professors pride themselves; not only do they escape all persecution, but they are never able to strike a blow, much less fight a battle for the Lord Jesus.

PUFFERY—Spiritual When we read the exaggerated accounts which are so frequently issued, lauding to the skies the successful labours of certain evangelists of doubtful vocation, we are reminded of the battle of Aliwal, of which an officer wrote, "Aliwal was the battle of the despatch, for none of us knew we had fought a battle until the particulars appeared in a document which did more than justice to every one concerned." Is there not quite enough religious fiction abroad without filling corners of newspapers and magazines therewith? We know who they were of old who sounded a trumpet before them. God's real works of grace are too sublime to need the arts of puffery to publish them.

PULPIT

Clemens Brentano, a literary acquaintance of Dr. Krummacher, and a Catholic, once said to the doctor, "Till you Protestants pull down the chatter-box," ("Plapperkasten,") he meant the pulpit, "or, at least, throw it into the corner, where it ought to be, there is no hope of you." I could only reply to him, "It is true indeed, that our 'Plapperkasten' stands greatly in the way of you Catholics." The pulpit is the Thermopylae of Protestantism, the tower of the flock, the Palladium of the church of God. Well might Paul magnify his office, for not only Glasgow but the city of our God "'nourishes by the preaching of the word."

PURPOSE—Unity of

It is said of Thomas Pett, the miser, that his pulse rose and fell with the funds. He never lay down or rose that he did not bless the inventor of compound interest. His one gloomy apartment was never brightened with coal, candle, or the countenance of a visitor, and he never ate a morsel at his own expense. Of course he made money, for he gave himself wholly to it; and we ought not to forget that the same single-mindedness and self-denial would make Christians rich towards God. What is wanted in the service of Christ, is the same unity of purpose which has ruled all men who have won the object for which they lived. He who makes God's glory the one only aim before which all other things bow themselves, is the man to bring honour to his Lord.

PURPOSE—Unity of When Audubon the celebrated American ornithologist was in Paris he grew quite weary of it, and his diary does not contain a cheerful word about that gay city until he writes, "The stock-pigeon roosts in the trees of the garden of the Tuileries in great numbers; blackbirds also do the same, and are extremely noisy before dark; some few rooks and magpies are seen there also. In the Jardin, or walks of the Palais 'Royal, common sparrows are prodigiously plentiful. The mountain finch passes in scattered numbers over Paris at this season, going northerly." So also when in London the great naturalist was quite out of his element, and only seemed pleased when a flight of wildfowl passed over the city. Here was the secret of his success—his complete absorption in his one study—birds alone had charms for him. We who would attain to eminence in the service of Christ must let the love of souls, in an equal way, master and engross us. When writing a paper for the Natural History Society upon the habits of the wild pigeon, Audubon says, "So absorbed was my whole soul and spirit in the work, that I felt as if I were in the woods of America, among the pigeons, and my ears were filled with the sound of their rustling wings." We should all write, speak, and preach for our Lord Jesus far more powerfully if our love to the Lord were a passion so dominant as to make the great realities of eternity vividly real and supremely commanding in our minds.