Christian love is a selfless, practical expression of God's grace that embraces others' differences, forgives faults, and rejoices in their spiritual growth (1 Corinthians 13:4-7). It is demonstrated through compassionate actions, peacemaking, and encouragement, reflecting Christ's love in both deed and truth (1 John 3:18). Illustrations often use everyday acts of kindness, parental care, and friendship to depict this transformative love.
A wife's sacrificial love saved her husband from poison, showing conjugal devotion.
Edward I. of England having received a wound from a poisoned dagger, his wife Eleanor sucked out the poison, venturing her own life to save her husband's.
A widow's constant remembrance of her husband shows enduring love beyond death.
A short time previous to the death of the Marchioness of Tavistock, and when she was preparing to go to Lisbon for the recovery of her health, a consultation of physicians was held at Bedford House; and one of the gentlemen present requested, while he felt her pulse, that she would open her hand. Her frequent refusals occasioned him to take the liberty of gently forcing the fingers asunder; when he perceived that she had kept her hand closed to conceal the miniature-picture of the marquis. "O madam!" observed the physician, "my prescriptions must be useless, if your ladyship is determined to keep before your eyes an object, which, although deservedly dear to you, serves only to confirm the violence of your illness." The marchioness replied, "I have kept the picture, either in my bosom or my hand, ever since the death of my lamented lord; and thus I am determined to preserve it till I fortunately drop after him into the grave." Percy.
We owe deep love and gratitude to Christ who adopted us as God's children.
Like as if a king should make a poor beggar-born his loving son and heir by adoption, he were greatly bound to love him, and to be thankful to him forever; even so much more we ought to love the Son of God, who has made us sons and heirs to his Father by his death and redemption.
— Cawdray
Love fuels obedience, devotion, and heroic deeds in the Christian life.
Love to Christ smooths the path of duty, and wings the feet to travel it: it is the bow which impels the arrow of obedience; it is the mainspring moving the wheels of duty; it is the strong arm tugging the oar of diligence. Love is the marrow of the bones of fidelity, the blood in the veins of piety, the sinew of spiritual strength; yea, the life of sincere devotion. He that hath love can no more be motionless than the aspen in the gale, the scar leaf in the hurricane, or the spray in the tempest. As well may hearts cease to beat, as love to labor. Love is instinct with activity, it cannot be idle; it is full of energy, it cannot content itself with littles; it is the well-spring of heroism, and great deeds are the gushings of its fountain; it is a giant, — it heapeth mountains upon mountains, and thinks the pile but little; it is a mighty mystery, for it changes bitter into sweet; It calls death life, and life death; and it makes pain less painful than enjoyment.
— Spurgeon
Disabled lepers cooperated to work, illustrating the unity and care in Christ's body.
Halbeck, a missionary of the Church of England in the South of Africa, from the top of a neighboring hill saw lepers at work. He noticed two particularly, sowing peas in the field. One had no hands; the other had no feet, — these members being wasted away by disease. The one who wanted the hands was carrying the other, who wanted the feet, upon his back; and he again carried the bag of seed, and dropped a pea every now and then, which the other pressed into the ground with his feet: and so they managed the work of one man between the two. Such should be the true union of the members of Christ's body, in which all the members should have the same care one for another.
True love supports and cares for others, as Christiana took her children on pilgrimage.
The intensity of maternal affection was illustrated in the observation of a little boy, who, after reading Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress," asked his mother which of the characters she liked best. She replied, "Christian, of course: he is the hero of the story." The dear child responded, "Mother, I like Christiana best, because, when Christian set out on his pilgrimage, he went alone; but, when Christiana started, she took the children with her."
Kindness and perseverance in love can soften even a brother's anger and bring reconciliation.
Euclid, a disciple of Socrates, having offended his brother, the brother cried out in a rage, "Let me die if I am not revenged on you one time or other!" To whom Euclid replied, "And let me die if I do not soften you by my kindnesses, and make you love me as well as ever!"
True love inherently includes pleasure and delight in the beloved's nature.
All love hath complacency or pleasure in the nature and most formal notion of it. To search for pleasure in love is the same thing as if a man should be solicitous to find water in the sea, or light in the body of the sun.
— J. Howe
Christians should diligently keep the fire of divine love burning in their hearts continually.
In ancient Rome, there was a temple dedicated to the heathen goddess Vesta. At its altar, virgins ministered as female priests; and their duty was to keep the sacred flame ever burning. If it went out through their neglect, they were severely punished. How carefully they watched it by day and by night! Imitate, O Christian! their example. Keep the fire of divine love burning on the altar of your heart. Suffer it not to grow dim; let it never go out in darkness. J. I. Boswell.
True love is shown by willingness to lay down one's life for another.
Cyrus entered the country of the King of Armenia, and, having taken him and all his family prisoners, ordered them before him. "Armenius," said he, "you are free; for you are sensible of your error. And what will you give me if I restore your wife to you?"—"All that I am able."—"What if I restore your children?"—"All that I am able."—"And you, Tigranes," said he, turning to the son: "what would you do to save your wife from servitude?" Now Tigranes was but lately married, and had great love for his wife. "Cyrus," he replied, "to save her from servitude, I would willingly lay down my own life."—"Let each have his own again," said Cyrus; and, when he departed, one spoke of his clemency, another of his valor, another of his beauty and the grace of his person; upon which Tigranes asked his wife if she thought him handsome. "Really," said she, "I did not look at him."—"At whom, then, did you look?"—"At him who offered to lay down his life for me."
Various cultural proverbs illustrate the nature and folly of love.
Nobody's sweetheart is ugly.—Dutch.—People in love think other people's eyes are out.—Spanish.—Love is blind.—English.—Faults are thick where love is thin.—Welsh.—To love and to be wise is impossible.—Spanish.—True love never grows heavy. Who would be loved must love. Love warms more than a thousand fires. Love rules without law. Love is master of all arts.—Italian.—Love subdues all but the ruffian's heart.—French.
Love for God is proven by obedience to His commandments.
"I do love God," said a little girl to her papa one day when he had been talking to her about loving God. "Perhaps you think so, Maria." — "Oh, I do, indeed I do, papa!" — "Suppose, my child, you should come to me, and say, 'Dear papa, I do love you,' and then go away and disobey me: could I believe you?" — "No, papa." — "Well, dear, how can I believe you love God when I see you every day doing those things which he forbids? You know, the Bible says, 'If ye love me, keep my commandments.'"
True love for Christ detests sin and avoids offending Him.
He that is not afraid of sinning has good need to be afraid of damning. Truth hates error, holiness abhorreth guilt, and grace cannot but detest sin. If we do not desire to be cautious to avoid offending our Lord, we may rest confident that we have no part in him; for true love to Christ will rather die than wound him. Spurgeon.
True love for Christ endures persecution and remains unshaken by arguments.
A convert in India, entreated to give up the Christian religion, said, "I love Jesus Christ because he loveth me, and I must obey him. Even if I knew that heaven were full, and there was no room for me, I should still love him, and live for his honor and glory." Efforts were made to convince him by argument. He said, "Should they even be able to bring sophistical arguments which I could not answer, I should not be troubled: I have an inward experience of the love of Christ which can never be shaken or removed." His relatives wept over him as going to perdition. He said to the missionary, "Threats I can bear; arguments do not shake me: but the hardest thing to bear is the persecution of tears. It almost breaks my heart to hear them; but not even for this can I leave Christ." Other converts and inquirers in his native village were told that he was about to return to his old faith. He said, "Should I go back, they would all be discouraged. I thank God that he has helped me to stand firm for their sakes. No: if my own soul were not worth saving, I would cling to Christ in order to bring them to him also."
Loving others is the secret to being loved by everyone.
Dr. Doddridge one day asked his little daughter how it was that everybody loved her. "I know not," said she; "unless it be that I love everybody."
Small courtesies smooth life's path and inspire love, like grace and beauty do.
Hail, ye small, sweet courtesies of life! for smooth do ye make the road of it, like grace and beauty, which begot inclinations to love at first sight: His ye who open the door, and let the stranger sin. Sterne.
A minister must first be filled with God’s love to ignite love in others.
As one candle cannot light another unless itself be lighted, no more can a minister inflame others with the love of God if he be void of it. Cawdray.
True grace motivates believers to eagerly desire and share Christ's spiritual riches.
The poor professor may be content with a few of Christ's peace now and then; but he who is rich in grace thinks so small an income beneath his station, and cannot live unless he has golden gifts from the hand of his Lord. He will covet earnestly this best of gifts, and be a very miser after the precious things of the cross.
— Spurgeon
Christian perfection is perfect love expressed through humility, faith, and self-denial.
In other words, Christian perfection is a spiritual constellation, made up of these gracious stars, — perfect repentance, perfect faith, perfect humility, perfect meekness, perfect self-denial, perfect resignation, perfect hope, perfect charity for our invisible enemies as well as for our earthly relations, and, above all, perfect love for our invisible God through the explicit knowledge of our Mediator Jesus Christ. And as this last star is always accompanied by all the others, as Jupiter is by his satellites, we frequently use, as St. John, the phrase "perfect love," instead of the word "perfection;" understanding by it the pure love of God shed abroad in the hearts of established believers by the Holy Ghost, which is abundantly given them under the fulness of the Christian dispensation. J. Fletcher.
The simple word 'Please' can open hearts and unlock relationships.
A little girl told her aunt that she had found a new key to unlock people's hearts. It was the little word "Please." It is a key that fits the lock of everybody's heart.
A woman without devotion is like a beautiful but useless bee or a decorated dung-hill.
A woman without devotion, were she composed as a Pandora, and had she all the beauties which the heart can desire and the imagination feign, is a bee without a sting, which will make neither honey nor wax; is a savage beast that Nature hath lodged in a painted house; is a case covered with precious stones, to preserve a dung-hill. N. Caussin.
True zeal is loving, gentle, and seeks to save without harm or harshness.
Let us take heed we do not sometimes call that zeal for God and his gospel which is nothing else but our own tempestuous and stormy passion. True zeal is a sweet, heavenly, and gentle flame, which maketh us active for God, but always within the sphere of love. It never calls for fire from heaven to consume those that differ a little from us in their apprehensions. It is like that kind of lightning (which philosophers speak of) that melts the sword within, but singeth not the scabbard; it strives to save the soul, but hurteth not the body. Cudworth.
True love remains faithful despite family betrayal and hardship.
Philip, surnamed the Good, the founder of that greatness to which the House of Burgundy latterly attained, was, at an early age, married to the Princess Michelea, sister to Charles the Dauphin. The father of Philip was afterwards slain through the villany and perfidiousness of Charles; and on the news being brought to Philip, full of grief and anger, he rushed into the chamber of his wife: "Alas!" said he, "my Michelea, thy brother has murdered my father." The Princess, who loved her husband most tenderly, broke out into the most affecting cries and lamentations; and fearful lest this accident should lose her the affections of her spouse, refused all comfort. Philip, the good Philip, however, assured her that she should not be the less dear to him on that account; that the deed was her brother's and none of hers. "Take courage, my life," said he, "and seek comfort in a husband that will be faithful and constant to thee forever." Michelea was revived by these tender assurances; nor during the three years longer which she lived, had she occasion to suspect the smallest diminution of Philip's affection and respect.
A wife's sacrificial love supports her husband even amid battle.
The following heroic conduct of a Hindoo woman was attested by one of the Baptist missionaries in India:—
Our friend Mrs. W., who invited our missionaries to preach at her house, made us a visit yesterday with some others, for the first time. I was much gratified by the zealous spirit which she While he was pronouncing these, the last words of the tragedy, his eye and manner were fearfully wild; the blood was falling from his bosom upon the young gentleman who had personated the then lifeless lady Imogene? As soon as the last words were pronounced, he fell—to rise no more."
# ACTION.
evinced, as well as by her anxiety to join the church. She had hitherto waited to see if the Lord would bless her endeavors to draw her husband into the right way. See what a blessing this native woman aims to be to her European husband. She was a Hindoo, before he took her as a slave, of the vilest description. This man was sergeant of artillery in the late war, under Lord Lake, and had an active part in most of the bloody conflicts of the time. This woman's attachment to her partner was so strong, that she accompanied him in the heat of every battle, and often lent him a hand when exhausted, and supplied his place at the guns. In one of these scenes Mr. W. received a musket-ball above the temples, which penetrated nearly through his skull, carrying a part of the brass hoop of his hat along with it, and instantly dropped down, to all appearance dead. She however neither lost her fortitude nor her affection: even in this trying moment, when, in addition to the situation of her partner, the shots were falling like hailstones about her own head, she took him upon her back, with the intent of performing the last friendly office of burying him, and carried him out of the scene of action!
A husband's secret ring inscription expresses eternal love and hope of reunion in heaven.
A young gentleman of fine intellect, of a noble heart, and one well known to many of our readers, (says the Hartford Courant,) was suddenly snatched by the hand of death from all the endearments of life. Surrounded by every thing that could make existence pleasant and happy—a wife that idolized him—children that loved him as they only can love, and friends devoted to him; the summons came, and he lay upon the bed of death. But a few short years ago, she to whom he was wedded, placed a bridal ring upon his finger, upon the inside of which he had a few words privately engraven. The husband would never permit the giver to read them, telling her that the day would come when her wish should be gratified, and she should know the secret. Seven years glided away, and a day or two since, when conscious that he must soon leave his wife forever, he called her to his bedside, and with his dying accents told her that the hour had at last come when she should see the words upon the ring she had given him. The young mother took it from his cold finger, and though heart-stricken with grief, eagerly read the words: "I HAVE LOVED THLE ON EARTH—I WILL MEET THERE IN HEAVEN."
A wife's relentless journey saves her husband from death, showing devoted love.
I cannot refrain, says Sir Wm. Jones, from giving one beautiful illustration of devoted duty and affection in the instance of the Countess Confalonieri. The moment she heard that the count was condemned to death, she flew to Vienna, but the courier had already set out with the fatal mandate. It was midnight, but her agonies of mind pleaded for instant admission to the empress. The same passionate despair which won the attendants, wrought its effect on their royal mistress. She hastened that moment to the emperor, and having succeeded, returned to the unhappy lady with a commutation of the sentence: her husband's life was spared. But the death-warrant was on its way;—could she overtake the courier? Throwing herself into a conveyance, and paying four times the amount for relays of horses, she never, it is stated, stopped or tasted food till she reached the city of Milan. The count was preparing to be led to the scaffold: but she was in time—she had saved him. During her painful journey, she had rested her throbbing brow upon a small pillow, which she bathed with her tears; in the conflict of mingled terror and hope, lest all might be over. This interesting memorial of conjugal tenderness and truth in so fearful a moment, was sent by his judges to the count, to show their sense of his wife's admirable conduct.
A wife braves harsh winter conditions to reunite with her lost husband.
During a very heavy fall of snow in the winter of 1784, two gentlemen rode on horseback from Berwick to Kelso, regardless of the remonstrances of many, who insisted that the roads were impassable: and, in truth, it was an act of hardihood and folly, as the congealed flakes were drifted by the blast, and beat violently against their eyes and teeth. At every step the jaded animals were more than knee-deep, and may be rather said to have plunged onward than otherwise. When they arrived, with much difficulty, at a lonely ale-house, near Tweezle, on the river Till, they found an inhabitant of Kelso, who had been detained in this thatched hovel two days by the inclement season: he sat in a contracted state, inclining over the embers on the hearth, like the personification of the ague. When he recognised them, his features assumed their wonted firmness, and, gathering intrepidity from example, he resolved to accompany them, although the roads and ditches were so filled up that the vast face of the country seemed an unbroken white expanse. On their arrival in the middle of a heath, which they did not accomplish until the approaches of night, they faintly discovered a female form wading and floundering irregularly towards them, in the trackless snow: her attire was so loose, and involved so much of the simplicity of a villager, that she appeared as if habited merely to pass from one neighbor's house to another. Viewing her through the misty atmosphere, they hesitated to pronounce her as human; the contour of her body was so softened by the intermediate vapors, that she seemed aerial. On their coming nearer, they ascertained her, with extreme astonishment, to be the wife of their companion: she had been wandering in a spirit of desperation, thirteen miles from her home and her infants, in that bleak day, to find the remains of her beloved Willy; believing him, from his unusual and alarming absence, to have perished in the hard weather. Upon the instantaneous assurance that she beheld her husband once more, she issued a loud and piercing shriek, and sank motionless in the snow. When they had chafed her temples, and imperfectly recovered her, she clasped her hands, in all the fervor of piety, and raising her eyes to heaven, blessed her God for her deliverance from trouble. At the conclusion of her prayer, they placed the shivering amiable woman on the ablest horse, and conveyed her to Coldstream, overpowered by the sensations of an excessive joy, succeeding the conflicts of severe duty and agonizing woe! What an inspiring instance of conjugal tenderness!—Could Cornelia or Portia have done more?
A husband sacrifices his horse to bring food to his famished wife.
In the year 1762, (says the Rev. Mr. Heckwelder.) I was witness to a remarkable instance of the disposition of the Indians to indulge their wives. There was a famine in the land, and a sick Indian woman expressed a great desire for a mess of Indian corn. Her husband having heard that a trader at lower Sandusky had a little, set off on horseback for that place, one hundred miles distant, and returned with as much corn as filled the crown of his hat, for which he gave his horse in exchange, and came home on foot, bringing his saddle back with him.
A wife's love for her husband prevents her from looking at any other man.
A married woman of the Shawnee Indians, made this beautiful reply to a man whom she met in the woods, and who implored her to love and look on him. "Oulman, my husband," said she, "who is forever before my eyes, hinders me from seeing you or any other person."
A wife's faithful support enables her husband's ministry and blesses their family.
The Rev. William Jay, of Bath (Eng.), on the fiftieth anniversary of his ordination, gave his wife the following noble compliment. Being presented by the ladies of his congregation with a purse containing £850, after a few remarks he turned to Mrs. Jay, and said: "I take this purse, and present it to you, madam—to you, madam, who have always kept my purse, and therefore it is that it has been so well kept. Consider it entirely sacred—for your pleasure, your use your service, your comfort. I feel this to be unexpected by you, but it is perfectly deserved. Mr. Chairman, and Christian friends, I am sure there is not one here but would acquiesce in this, if he knew the value of this female, as a wife, for more than fifty years. I must mention the obligation the public are under to her (if I have been enabled to serve my generation), and how much she has raised her sex in my estimation; how much my church and congregation owe to her watchings over their pastor's health, whom she has cheered under all his trials, and reminded of his duties, while she animated him in their performance; how often has she wiped the evening dews from his forehead, and freed him from interruptions and embarrassments, that he might be free for his work. How much, also, do my family owe to her; and what reason have they to call her blessed! She is, too, the mother of another mother in America, who has reared thirteen children, all of whom are walking with her in the way everlasting."
# 8. Affection, Filial—Exemplified.
Timoleon risked his life to protect and honor his fallen brother on the battlefield.
Timoleon, the Corinthian, was a noble pattern of fraternal love. Being in battle with the Argives, and seeing his brother fall by the wounds he had received, he instantly leaped over his dead body, and with his shield protected it from insult and plunder; and though severely wounded in the generous enterprise, he would not on any account retreat to a place of safety, till he had seen the corpse carried off the field by his friends.
A wealthy brother sought out and generously cared for his humble water-bearer brother.
BEARER AND HIS BROTHER.—As one of the water-bearers at the fountain of the Fauxbourg St. Germain, in Paris, was at his usual labors, in August, 1766, he was taken away by a gentleman in a splendid coach, who proved to be his own brother, and who, at the age of three years, had been carried to India, where he made a considerable fortune. On his return to France, he made inquiry respecting his family; and hearing that he had only one brother alive, and that he was in the humble condition of a water-bearer, he sought him out, embraced him with great affection, and brought him to his house, where he gave him bills for upwards of a thousand crowns per annum.
An elder brother stayed to help his exhausted sibling during a deadly snowstorm.
STORM.—In the year 1804, some young men of the Morayshire and Inverness-shire militia, being quartered at Edinburgh, obtained a short furlough. They were seven in number, two of them being brothers, named Forsythe. They had to walk, in the very depth of winter, one hundred and thirty miles. As they proceeded, they were overtaken by one of those sudden snow-storms which are usual in the mountains. And now the night began to close in around them, while the snow and the wind still grew thicker and stronger. At last, being bewildered by the shade of the evening, which was rendered yet more dismal by the incessant snow-drift, they strayed, as might be expected, from the right path, and exhausted their strength. They could just see one another; but the storm was so violent, they could not converse. Thus struggling onward, and scarcely knowing where they went, one of them sank in a hollow in the rock, and was buried. The others passed on, unconscious of his loss. Soon after, the younger Forsythe also dropped down, being quite spent. His body lay in the pathway of the rest, but being much weakened themselves, they, without helping him, stepped on; all did so but one. This one was the elder Forsythe, who, knowing that he had a brother amongst the party, stooped when he came up to him, and felt his features. Having in this manner assured himself that it was his own brother, he, without hesitation, took him up, and placed him on his back. And now the number rapidly diminished; one after another perished, being frozen to death. Forsythe yet went on, bearing his burden, which neither his fatigue, nor the difficulties of the way, could induce him to cast off As long as he had any strength, he persevered, holding his brother on his back, until at length, his powers giving way before his affection, he sank beneath the weight, and immediately expired. Before, however, he thus died, it appeared that he had succeeded in saving his brother, though he lost himself: for the younger Forsythe had been gradually reanimated by the warmth of his brother's body; and, when he dropped, was so thoroughly aroused, that he was enabled to reach his home, having escaped death by his brother's generous sacrifice of himself, and had the melancholy duty imposed upon him of attending his kind brother's funeral.
## II. Affection, Maternal.
A widowed mother labored tirelessly to provide for and keep her children together.
Joanna Martin, the wife of a day-laborer at Huntspill, in the northern part of Somersetshire, England, was left a widow with six young children, and not a shilling in the world to feed them with. The parish officers had no objection to receive the children into the poor-house; but the good mother would not part with them, determining to depend, under Providence, on her activity for their support.
"For many a long month," said she, "have I risen daily at two o'clock in the morning, done what was needful for the children; gone eight or ten miles on foot, to a market, with a large load of pottery-ware on my head, sold it, and returned with the profits before noon."
By this hard labor, in the course of a year, she saved a guinea and a half; when, being under the necessity of leaving her cottage, she determined to erect one for herself. She did much of the labor with her own hands; and told some gentlemen, some years afterwards, "Well, with the assistance of a gracious God, I was able to finish my cottage; which, though I say it myself, is a very tight little place."
She afterwards bought a cart and pony, travelled still to market, brought up her family, and, without either begging, or seeking relief from the parish, obtained a living.
To what labor and privation will paental affection animate the heart! How much may be done by a person under the influence of industry, temperance, and piety!
A widowed mother bravely cared for her children and sought help despite great hardship.
One of the small islands in Boston Bay was inhabited by a single poor family. The father was taken suddenly ill. There was no physician. The wife, on whom every labor for the household devolved, was sleepless in care and tenderness by the bedside of her suffering husband. Every remedy in her power to procure was administered, but the disease was acute, and he died. Seven young children mourned around the lifeless corpse. They were the sole beings upon that desolate spot. Did the mother indulge the grief of her spirit, and sit down in despair? No: she entered upon the arduous and sacred duties of her station. She felt that there was no hand to assist her in burying her dead. Providing, as far as possible, for the comfort of her little ones, she put her babe into the arms of the oldest, and charged the two next in age to watch the corpse of their father. She unmoored her husband's fishing boat, which, but two days before he had guided over the seas, to obtain food for his family. She dared not yield to those tender recollections, which might have unnerved her arm. The nearest island was at the distance of three miles. Strong winds lashed the waters to foam. Over the loud billows, that wearied and sorrowful woman rowed, and was preserved. She reached the next island, and obtained necessary aid. With such energy did her duty to her desolate babes inspire her, that the voyage, which depended on her individual effort, was performed in a shorter time than the returning one, when the oars were managed by two men, who went to assist in the last offices to the dead.
Cornelia valued her sons as her true jewels over all earthly riches.
A Campanian lady, who was very rich, and fond of pomp and show, being on a visit to Cornelia, the illustrious mother of the Gracchi, displayed the diamonds and jewels she possessed, with some ostentation, and then requested Cornelia to permit her to see her jewels. This eminent woman dextrously contrived to turn the conversation to another subject, till her sons returned from one of the public schools; when she introduced them, saying, "These are my jewels."
A slave mother risked death crossing icy waters to stay with her child.
We remember, says a writer in the True American, the story of a cruel master, who, without cause, had determined to sever a slave mother, and her only child. She had been faithful under the very worst usage, and she determined to remain so, until he told her, that on the morrow, her child must be borne to New Orleans to be sold there in the slave mart. It was mid-winter. The earth was frosted with a hard crust, yet at midnight she started for the Ohio, determined, if she could, to live and die with her child. She reached its banks as the pursuers rose on the hill beyond—no boat was near—masses of broken ice were sluggishly drifting along—what was she to do? Trusting to heaven, she put her feet on the treacherous element, and with it bending and breaking beneath her, (spectators on either side expecting to see her and her child sink at every moment,) she boldly pushed on from cake to cake, until she landed safely on the Ohio shore. Five minutes sooner and she must have perished—two minutes later and she would have met with a watery grave, for before she had proceeded twenty steps the ice behind her, close on the Kentucky side, had broken and was scattered ere she reached the mid river. "Thank God you and your child are safe," exclaimed the hard-hearted master, as he saw her land, rejoiced that he had escaped the responsibility of their death. "Brave woman," said a Kentuckian who had witnessed her escape and met her at the landing, "you have won your freedom and shall have it." The mother and the child were kept together, and liberty and love is now their lot in their humble but happy home. Was there not true heroism here, and is not the scene worthy the sweetest song of poetry or the holiest praise of man?
A mother endured cruel captivity and separation from her children with steadfast love.
Humboldt, in his celebrated travels, tells us, that after he had left the abodes of civilization far behind, in the wilds of South America, he found, near the confluence of the Atabapo and Rio Ternie rivers, a high rock—called the “MOTHER’S ROCK.” The circumstances which gave this remarkable name to the rock, were these:
In 1799, a Roman Catholic Missionary led his half-civilized Indians out on one of those hostile excursions, which they often made to kidnap slaves for the Christians. They found a Guahiba woman in a solitary hut, with three children—two of whom were infants. The father, with the older children, had gone out to fish, and the mother in vain tried to fly with her babes. She was seized by these man-hunters, hurried into a boat, and carried away to a missionary station at San Fernando.
She was now far from her home; but she had left children there who had gone with their father. She repeatedly took her three babes and tried to escape, but was as often seized, brought back, and most unmercifully beaten with whips. At length the missionary determined to separate this mother from her three children; and for this purpose, sent her in a boat up the Atabapo River, to the missions of the Rio Negro, at a station called Javita. Seated in the bow of the boat, the mother knew not where she was going, or what fate awaited her. She was bound solitary and alone in the bow of the long-boat; but she judged from the direction of the sun, that she was going away from her children. By a sudden effort she broke her bonds, plunged into the river, swam to the left bank of the Atabapo, and landed upon a Rock.
She was pursued, and at evening re-taken, and brought back to the rock, where she was scourged till her blood reddened the rock,—calling for her children! and the rock has ever since been called, “THE MOTHER’S ROCK!” Her hands were then tied upon her back, still bleeding from the manatee thongs of leather. She was then dragged to the mission at Javita, and thrown into a kind of stable. The night was profoundly dark, and it was in the midst of the rainy season. She was now full seventy-five miles from her three children in a straight line. Between her and them lay forests never penetrated by human footsteps; swamps and morasses, and rivers, never crossed by man. But her children are at San Fernando;—and what can quench a mother's love! Though her arms were wounded, she succeeded in biting her bonds with her teeth, and in the morning she was not to be found! At the fourth rising sun she had passed through the forests, swam the rivers, and all bleeding and worn out, was seen hovering round the little cottage in which her babes were sleeping!
She was seized once more; and before her wounds were healed, she was torn again from her children, and sent away to the missions on the upper Oroonoko River, where she drooped, and shortly died, refusing all kinds of nourishment—died of a broken heart at being torn from her children! Such is the history of the "MOTHER'S ROCK!"
This fact might be employed to show the pernicious tendency of slavery, even when engaged in by those who profess Christianity; but it is cited here to show the strength of maternal affection. Wherever you find woman, whether exalted to her place by the Gospel, reduced to a mere animal by Mohammedanism, or sunk still lower by Paganism, you find this same unquenchable love for her children!
### 12. Affection, Paternal.
Dr. Furnam respectfully greeted a pious woman, modeling true Christian brotherhood.
Dr. Furnam was once present in a small company of brethren who had assembled to dine with a common friend, when the usual style by which they addressed each other, was that affectionate appellative of bromost open manner, nobly avowed and fully proved the points of his indictment before the whole senate,—had the satisfaction to see the wicked prefect (who, conscious of his guilt, had saved himself by flight) solemnly condemned by law, his unjust property confiscated, and restoration made to oppressed poverty and innocence.
# CRYSTAL.
ther. Those present were very exact in using this mode of address. While their conversation was in progress, and they were freely brothering each other, there came in an aged colored woman, well known for her piety and good character. The brethren present saluted her, one in this manner and another in that—thus: "Well, old woman," "How-de, mamma;" "How-de, Clarinda," and so on.
When she came to Dr. Furnam, he leaned forward, extended to her his hand, and said: "How do you do, sister Clarinda?" He might have designed his salutation to the old woman as a gentle reproof to those present, who did not seem to feel the true equality in which all who know the religion of Christ stand as brethren.
An Englishman’s courteous act of returning a lost hat earned respect and friendship.
An Englishman, taking the grand tour, towards the middle of the eighteenth century, when travellers were more objects of attention than at present, on arriving at Turin, sauntered out to see the place. He happened to meet a regiment of infantry returning from parade, and taking a position to see it pass, a young captain, evidently desirous of making a display before the stranger, in crossing one of the numerous water-courses with which the city is intersected, missed his footing, and trying to save himself, lost his hat. The spectators laughed, and looked at the Englishman, expecting him to laugh too. On the contrary, he not only retained his composure, but promptly advanced to where the hat rolled, and taking it up, presented it with an air of kindness to its confused owner. The officer received it with a blush of surprise and gratitude, and hurried to rejoin his company. There was a murmur of applause, and the stranger passed on. Though the scene of a moment, and without a word spoken, it touched every heart.
On the regiment being dismissed, the captain, who was a young man of consideration, in glowing terms related the circumstance to his colonel. The colonel immediately mentioned it to the general in command; and when the Englishman returned to his hotel, he found an aid-de-camp waiting to request his company at dinner, at head quarters. In the evening he was taken to court, at that time the most brilliant court in Europe, and was received with particular attention. Of course during his stay at Turin he was invited every where; and on his departure he was loaded with letters of introduction to the different States of Italy. Thus a private gentleman of moderate means, by a graceful impulse of Christian feeling,
# 114. CRE
Showing pleasure in others' kindness encourages their joy and friendship.
It was a maxim of a celebrated minister, “that if a child but lisped to give you pleasure, you ought to be pleased.” When occasionally preaching in the villages, he used to be delighted in visiting the poor, and, when solicited, would regale himself with their brown bread and black tea; but took care, at the same time, that they should lose nothing by their attention. “When a poor person shows anxiety to administer to your comfort,” he would say, “do not interrupt him. Why deprive him of the pleasure of expressing his friendship?”
Kind words can bring happiness without loss, like lighting another's candle.
“If a civil word or two will render a man happy,” said a French king, “he must be wretched indeed who will not give them to him.” Were superiors to keep this in view, yea, were all mankind to observe it, how much happier would the world be than what it is! We may say of this disposition, “that it is like lighting another man’s candle by one’s own, which loses none of its light by what the other gains.”
John Eliot urged Christians to bear, forbear, and forgive for peace and unity.
The attachment of the Rev. John Eliot, usually called "the apostle to the Indians," to peace and union among Christians was exceedingly great. When he heard ministers complain that some in their congregations were too difficult for them, the substance of his advice would be, "Brother, compass them!" "Brother, learn the meaning of those three little words—bear, forbear, forgive." His love of peace, indeed, almost led him to sacrifice right itself.
True Christian hospitality welcomes and cares for strangers generously and promptly.
Rev. Mr. — had travelled far to preach to a congregation at —. After the sermon, he waited very patiently, expecting some one of the brethren to invite him home to dinner. In this he was disappointed. One and another departed, until the house was almost as empty as the minister's stomach. Summoning resolution, however, he walked up to an elderly-looking gentleman, and gravely said—
"Will you go home to dinner with me to-day, brother?" "Where do you live?"
"About twenty miles from this, sir," "No," said the man, coloring, "but you must go with me." "Thank you—I will cheerfully."
After that time, the minister was no more troubled about his dinner."
King Louis IX taught that every soul is precious, bought by Christ's blood equally.
Louis the IXth, king of France, was found instructing a poor kitchen boy; and being asked why he did so, replied, "The meanest person hath a soul as precious as my own, and bought with the same blood of Christ."
Usher preaches love as the 'eleventh commandment,' illustrating true Christian love.
At one time Archbishop Usher visited Scotland, and hearing much of the piety of the Rev. Samuel Rutherford, resolved on being a witness of it. Disguised as a pauper, on a Saturday evening, he solicited lodging for the night. Mr. Rutherford took him in, and directed him to be seated in the kitchen. Mrs. Rutherford catechised the servants, as a preparation for the Sabbath; and having asked the stranger the number of the Divine commandments, he answered eleven. The good woman hastily concluded him ignorant, and said, "What a shame it is for you, a man with gray hairs, in a Christian country, not to know how many commandments there are! There is not a child six years old, in this parish, but could answer the question properly." Lamenting his condition, she ordered his supper, and directed a servant to show him a bed in a garret. Mr. Rutherford having heard him at prayer, and finding out who he was, prevailed on the archbishop to preach for him, which he agreed to do, on condition that he should not be made known. Early in the morning Mr. Rutherford changed his clothes, suffered him to depart, and afterwards introduced him to breakfast as a minister on a journey. When in the pulpit, he announced his text—"A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another;" and remarked that this might be reckoned the eleventh commandment. Mrs. Rutherford, remembering the answer she had received the night before from the stranger, was surprised, and looking at the preacher, almost imagined he might be the pitied traveler. The two holy men spent the evening in delightful conversation, and the archbishop departed, undiscovered, early on the following day.
Charity covers sins and condemning others is discouraged among believers.
Dr. Waugh, of London, had a great dislike to every thing bordering on slander or defamation. The following is an illustration of his character in this point:—
One of his people had traveled all the way from Newton to his father's house, where he usually resided, to communicate to him an unfavorable report concerning another member of the congregation. Some friends being with him, this person was requested to stay and dine with them. After dinner, he took occasion, in a jocular manner, to ask each person in his turn, how far he had ever known a man travel to tell an evil report of his neighbor; when some gave one reply, and some another. He at last came to this individual, but without waiting for his self-condemning reply, or unnecessarily exposing him, he stated, that he had lately met with a Christian professor, apparently so zealous for the honor of the church, as to walk fourteen miles with no other object than that of making known to his minister the failings of a brother member. He then in a warm and impressive manner enlarged on the praise of that charity which covers a multitude of sins; which "rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth."
The same excellent man being in company with a number of ministers, the bad conduct of a brother in the ministry became the subject of conversation, and every gentleman in the room joined warmly in condemning him. Dr. Waugh sat for a time silent. At last he walked up to his companions, and said, "My dear friends, surely we are not acting in accordance with our profession. The person you speak of is one of ourselves, and we ought not to blow the coal. But do you know that he is as bad a man as he is represented? and if he is, will railing against him do any good? It is cowardly to speak ill of a man behind his back; and I doubt if any of us would have sufficient courage, if our poor friend were to appear among us, to sit down and kindly tell him of his faults. If there be one here who feels himself quite pure, and free from error, let him throw the first stone; but if not, let us be silent; and I confess that I feel that I must not say one word." He resumed his seat, and the company looked at each other, struck silent by this rebuke from one so good and mild.
Avoid speaking evil of absent people who cannot defend themselves.
Mr. Philip Henry used to remind those who spoke evil of people behind their backs, of the law,—"Thou shalt not curse the deaf." These that are absent are deaf, they cannot right themselves, and therefore say no ill of them. A friend of his, inquiring of him concerning a matter which tended to reflect upon some people; he began to give him an account of the story, but immediately broke off, and checked himself with these words.—"But our rule is to speak evil of no man, and would proceed no farther in the story. The week before he died, a person requested the loan of a particular book from him. "Truly," said he, "I would lend it to you, but that it takes in the faults of some, which should rather be covered with a mantle of love."
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