78 Sermon Illustrations on Persecution

"As the astronomers call the glorious stars bulls, snakes, dragons, and other strange things, so do ungodly men miscall the most shining and glorious graces. Zeal is fury, strictness, nicety, and patience, folly!" So far as the astronomers are concerned, the names which they give to the constellations are no dishonour to the lamps of heaven; it were well if the other misnomers were equally indifferent. Ill names are, however, a kind of persecution, a part of the "cruel mockings" which are employed by the graceless. Evil comes of it, too, over and above the grieving of pious men, for weak minds avoid zeal when it is stigmatized as fanaticism, and many despise patience when it is maligned as meanness of spirit. Since the weak-minded are so many, this is a great evil which every man who loves his fellows should endeavour to correct. There is a great deal in a name after all. A great falsehood may be wrapped up in a short word, and a current misnomer may produce widespread evil. Let us call things by their right names, and stand up for all that is lovely and of good repute. Why should men bear false witness against the virtues, and vilify the fruits of the Spirit? If they will do so, let us not be so cowardly as to be silent; let us speak out boldly, and avow our hearty appreciation of that which the world despises. We will call the stars stars, and let the world call them bears, and crabs, and scorpions, if they will.

"Persecution and oppression are like an iron in the fire, which, heated too hot, burneth their fingers that hold it." The nations on the continent which drove out the Huguenots were ruined in their trade by the loss of their most intelligent and industrious artisans. The Romish church itself became the object of popular hatred by its burnings of godly men and women. As Pharaoh was glad at last to be rid of the Israelites whom he had oppressed, so are persecutors frequently pleased if they can sneak out of their persecutions, and wash their hands of the business. Playing with edged tools is dangerous work, and so is slandering the saints of God. Hammers have smitten the patient anvil until they have been worn out, and have become more weary of the anvil's endurance than it was of their blows. If any reader is opposing the church of God, let him consider what he is doing. He will find it hard to kick against the pricks. It will end as did the famous battle of the tow with the fire, and the stubble with the flame. No honour is to be gained by the conflict, but a blot will fall on the persecutor's escutcheon, and his portion shall be everlasting contempt.

Cyprian, on his way to martyrdom, was told by the emperor that he would give him time to consider if he had not better cast a grain of incense into the fire in honor of the idol gods, than die so ignominiously. Cyprian replied, "There needs no deliberation in the case." John Huss, at the stake, was offered a pardon if he would recant. His reply was, "I am here, ready to suffer death." Thomas Hawks, in like circumstances, said, "If I had a hundred bodies, I would suffer them all to be torn in pieces, rather then recant."

Agnes was a beautiful Roman maiden, and a devoted Christian. The son of the prefect became enamored of her, and offered to make her his wife; but she rejected his offer, and told him she had a "lover fairer than any earthly suitor." He laid rich presents before her in vain. Then he besought his father to obtain her for his wife. He learned that she was a Christian, and that the lover of whom she spoke was Christ. He resolved to compel her to enter the service of the Goddess Vesta. She rejected this proposition of Sempronius. He ordered her to be loaded with chains, and dragged before the altars of the gals; and then sent her to be degraded in a place of infamy. Stripped of her garments by the soldiers, she bowed her head in shame, and prayed; when her hair became like a veil, covering her whole person; and her attendants were filled with awe. Shut up in a chamber, she prayed that she might not be dishonored; when a white robe was miraculously given her. Sempronius, in imagined triumph, approached her, but was struck with instant blindness and convulsions. At her prayers, he was restored to health. He would have saved her; but the people cried for her blood. A fire was kindled; and she was thrown upon it. She stood unharmed in its midst, while her executioners were slain by its force. She was then slain with the sword. After her death, she appeared to her friends, with a lamb by her side, whiter than snow, and said, "Weep not! Dry your tears, and rejoice with exceeding great joy; for me a throne is prepared by the side of Him whom on earth I preferred to all others, and to whom I am united forever in heaven."

The legend of St. Blaise is of Greek origin. He was bishop over the Christian Church at Sebaste in Cappadocia, and governed his flock for many years with great vigilance, till the persecution under Diocletian, A.D. 289, obliged him to fly; and he took refuge in a mountain-cave at some distance from the city. This mountain was the haunt of wild beasts (bears, lions, and tigers); but these animals were so completely subdued by the gentleness and piety of the good old man, that, far from doing him any harm, they came every morning to ask his blessing. If they found him kneeling at his devotions, they waited duteously till he had finished, and, having received the accustomed benediction, they retired. Now, in the city of Sebaste, and in the whole province, so many Christians were put to death, that there began to be a scarcity of wild beasts for the amphitheatres. And Agricolaus, the governor, sent his hunters into the mountains to collect as many lions, tigers, and bears as possible; and it happened that these hunters, arriving one day before the mouth of the cave in which St. Blaise had taken refuge, found him seated in front of it, and surrounded by a variety of animals of different species. The lion and the lamb, the hind and the leopard, seemed to have put off their nature, and were standing amicably together, as though there had been everlasting peace between them; and some he blessed with holy words, knowing that God careth for all things that he has made; and to others that were sick or wounded he ministered gently; and others he reprehended because of their rapacity and gluttony. And, when the hunters beheld this, they were like men in a dream: they stood astonished, thinking they had found some enchanter. And they seized him, and carried him before the governor; and, as they went, the good bishop returned thanks to God, and rejoiced greatly, that, at length, he had been found worthy to die for the cause of Christ. Mrs. Jameson.

A colored man applied to a New-York merchant for a subscription, who at once knocked him into the street. The colored man started on telling the story of his abuse, won sympathy by it, and, before night, collected fifty dollars. The persecutor, bearing the story, desired to silence the man, sent for him, and gave him a liberal subscription.

A young Christian soldier in the army was often assaulted by his tent-mates while at prayer at night. He sought advice of his chaplain, and, by his counsel, omitted his usual habit. His ardent heart could not endure this. He chose rather to have prayer with persecution than peace without it, and resumed his old way. The result was, that, after a time, all his ten or twelve tent-companions knelt in prayer with him. In reporting to his chaplain, he said, "Isn't it better to keep the colors flying?"

It has been said that not less than fifty millions of Protestants at different times have been put to death by papists. What an army! What seas of blood have been shed! If their bodies were piled in one heap, they would be bigger than any mountain in this world.

— Dr. Beaumont

A wolf flies not upon a painted sheep, and men can look upon a painted toad with delight. It is not the soft pace, but the furious march of the soldier, that sets men a-gazing and dogs a-barking. Let but a man glide along with the stream of the world, do as others do, he may sit down, and take his case; but if he once strive against the stream, stand up in the cause of God, and act for Christ, then he shall be sure to meet with as much malice as men and devils can possibly throw upon him. Spencer.

A pious poor man was much ridiculed on account of his religion. Being asked if these daily persecutions did not make him ready to give up his profession, he replied, "No! Our minister once said in his sermon, that, if we were so foolish as to permit such people to laugh us out of religion till at last we dropped into hell, they could not laugh us out again."

As Pericles was sitting before others in a meeting, a foul-mouthed fellow railed upon him all the day long: at night, when it was dark, and the meeting broke up, the fellow followed him, and railed at him, even to his door, and he took no notice of him what he said; but, when he came home, this is all he said to him, "It is dark: I pray let my man light you home."

— Jeremiah Burroughs

At Cæsarea, in Cappadocia, a child named Cyril, in a time of heavy persecution called continually upon the name of Jesus Christ; and neither threats nor blows could divert him from it. Many children of his own age persecuted him, and his heathen father turned him out of doors. At last, he was brought before the judge, who threatened him, and expostulated with him. With undaunted boldness he said, "I rejoice to bear your reproaches: God will receive me. I am glad that I am expelled out of our house: I shall have a better mansion. I fear not death, because it will introduce me to a better life." He was condemned to the flames, with a full expectation that he would recant, and save his life. He remained firm, saying, "Your fire and your sword are insignificant: I go to a better house and more excellent riches; despatch me presently that I may enjoy them." He suffered, being burned to death amid a throng of wondering spectators.

When King Henry VIII. had allowed the Bible to be set forth to be read in the churches, immediately several poor men in the town of Chelmsford, in Essex, where the father of William Malden lived, and where he was born, bought the New Testament, and on Sundays sat reading it in the lower end of the church. Many flocked about them to hear them, read; and he, among the rest, being then about fifteen years old, came every Sunday to hear the glad and sweet tidings of the gospel. But his father, observing it once, angrily fetched him away, and would have him say the Latin matins with him, which much grieved him. And as he returned, at other times, to hear the Scriptures read, his father would still fetch him away. This put him upon the thought of learning to read, that he might search the New Testament himself; which, when he had by diligence effected, he, and his father's apprentice, bought a New Testament, joining their little stocks together; and, to conceal it, laid it under the bedstraw, and read it at convenient times.

One night, having discarded the act of bowing down to the crucifix, in conversation with his mother, she was enraged, and went and informed his father, who, inflamed with anger at hearing that his son denied that worship was due to the cross, went into his son's room, and pulling him out of bed by the hair, beat him most unmercifully. The lad bore all with patience, considering that it was for Christ's sake, as he said, when he related the anecdote in queen Elizabeth's reign. Enraged at this calmness, the father ran and fetched a halter, which he put round his son's neck, and would have hanged him, but for the interference of his mother. Such scenes, doubtless, occurred in many families.

Says a correspondent of the Advocate of Moral Reform: I was in the city of P., seated in the study of the brother with whom I had been laboring, when a little German girl, of twelve or fourteen years of age entered the room, and bursting into tears exclaimed, in an animated tone, "Oh, Mr. —, I am sure the Lord is going to convert my father. I do believe he will be converted now," she added, with so much emotion, as drew from me the inquiry, "Of whom is she speaking?" "Tell the gentleman yourself, my child," said my friend, "what God has done for you, and what he has been trying to do for him."

From the simple story of the girl, I gathered the following. A year and a half before, in her ignorance and sin she had been led to enter the church where my friend was preaching, and while there, the Lord graciously met her, and converted her soul. Full of joy and wonder, she ran home to tell her father, who was a bigoted Catholic, what a Savior she had found; but to her surprise, he became very angry, beat her cruelly, and forbade the mention of the subject again in his house. She continued to attend church, and expressed a wish to join with the people of God in commemorating the dying love of her Savior. He told her if she did, he would beat her to death. With this prospect, she determined to do her duty, putting her trust in Him who hath said, "I will never leave nor forsake thee." When she returned home and told her father what she had done, he beat her most unmercifully, and drove her from the house, telling her never to return, until she had given up her new-fangled religion. Thus forsaken of her father, the Lord took her up; she was provided with a place in a pious family, at service, reserving to herself the first Monday in every month, which day she spent in distributing tracts to all the German families of her acquaintance, and whenever permitted she prayed with them before she left, always taking her father's house in her way, though sure of being beaten, and driven from it. Month after month, she offered the hardened man a tract, at the same time entreating him to think of his poor soul, and offering to pray with him. Although uniformly driven away, with severe blows, she said, "I did not care for the blows, for, sir, my poor father's soul was all I thought of or cared for." In this course she persevered,—how long do you think, indolent Christian? not one month, which many think too long to wait for an answer to prayer; but eighteen months, without seeing any fruit of her labor. Two months before I met her, she found, on visiting her father, that he was in tears over his work; he suffered her to read, converse and pray without interruption, and at parting, bade her come again. The next month he was even more tender, and on the day I first saw her, she had seen him again, and she said, "Oh, how changed was my poor father! with tears he begged me to forgive him, and pray for him. I told him I had laid nothing up against him, and asked him to pray for himself. He knelt down by my side, but could only say, 'O Lord, forgive, forgive, O Lord, forgive;' and now, sir, I am sure the Lord will hear and convert my poor father."

The next evening, on entering the praying circle, I recognized the voice of the little German girl in the individual who was addressing the throne of grace. Her father was there, inquiring with trembling eagerness the way to the Savior's feet. The father and daughter left the room together that night, rejoicing in the grace which had washed away their stains.

About the year A. D. 63, when Festus was dead and Albinus had not come to succeed him, the Jews, being exceedingly enraged at the success of the gospel, Annanus, son of Annas, it is said, ordered James to ascend one of the galleries of the temple, and inform the people that they had, without ground, believed Jesus of Nazareth to be the Messiah. He got up and cried with a loud voice that Jesus was the Son of God, and would quickly appear in the clouds to judge the world. Many glorified God and believed; but the Pharisees threw him over the battlement. He was sorely bruised, but got upon his knees and prayed for his murderers amid a shower of stones which they cast at him, till one of them beat out his brains with a fuller's club. To the death of this just man some Jews ascribe the ruin of their nation.

A poor little African negro, only ten years of age, went to hear the preaching of one of the missionaries, and became, through his instrumentality, a convert, to the Christian religion. His master, (an inveterate enemy to missions,) hearing of it, commanded him never to go again, and declared he would have him whipped to death if he did. The poor little boy, in consequence of this mandate, was very miserable. He could scarcely refrain from going, yet he knew his death was inevitable if he did. In this critical situation, he sought direction and assistance at the throne of grace, and after having done this, he felt convinced that it was still his duty to attend, but to be careful that he should never interfere with his master's business, and, for the rest, to leave himself in the hands of God. He therefore went, and on his return, was summoned to his master's presence; and after much violent and abusive language, received five-and-twenty lashes, and then in a sarcastic tone of blasphemous ridicule, his master exclaimed, "What can Jesus Christ do for you now?" "He enables me to bear it patiently," said the poor child. "Give him five-and-twenty-lashes more," said the inhuman wretch. He was obeyed. "And what can Jesus Christ do for you now?" asked the unfeeling monster. "He helps me to look forward to a future reward," replied the little sufferer. "Give him five-and-twenty lashes more," vociferated the cruel tyrant, in a transport of rage. They complied; and while he listened with savage delight to the extorted groans of his dying victim, he again demanded, "What can Jesus Christ do for you now?" The youthful martyr, with the last effort of expiring nature, meekly answered, "He enables me to pray for you, massa." And instantly breathed his last!

In the reign of Constantine, there was one Marcus Arethusus, an eminent servant of God, who had been the cause of overthrowing an idol temple; but Julian coming to be Emperor, commanded the people of that place to build it up again. All were ready to do so, only he refused it; whereupon his own people, to whom he had preached, fell upon him, stript off his clothes, then abused his naked body, and gave it up to children and school-boys to be lanced with their penknives; but when all this would not do, they caused him to be set in the sun, his naked body anointed all over with honey, so that he might be bitten and stung to death by flies and wasps. All this cruelty they exercised upon him because he would not do any thing towards rebuilding that idol temple. Nay, they came so far, that if he would give but one half-penny towards the charge they would release him. But with a noble Christian disdain, he refused the offer, though the advancing of one half-penny might have saved his life. In so doing he only lived up to that principle so much commended and so little practised; that Christians should endure the greatest sufferings, rather than commit the least sins.

Mr. Knibb relates the following circumstances relative to David, a deacon of his church:—A few years ago, one of the slave members belonging to the Baptist church, at Montego Bay, was banished from his home, and sent to the estate where David lived, to be cured of his praying. By the pious conversation of this exiled Christian negro, David was brought under serious concern for his soul, which ended in his conversion to God. David spoke to his fellow slaves about Jesus, and his love in dying for poor sinners. God, who despises not the humblest instruments, blessed the efforts of this poor negro, and, in a short time, about thirty on the estate began to pray, and at length built a small hut, in which, after the labors of the day, they might assemble and worship God. Tidings of these things reached the ears of the white persons employed on the estate, and David was summoned before his attorney, and asked whether he was teaching the slaves to pray. On replying in the affirmative, the hut was demolished and burnt, and David was stretched upon the earth, and flogged with the cart-whip till his flesh was covered with blood. Next Lord's day I missed my faithful deacon at the house of God. His afflicted wife came, and told me the sad tale of his sufferings, and informed me that his hands were bound, and his feet made fast in the stocks. Often did I inquire after him, and for him, and the same answered was returned, "Massa, him in the stocks!" till one morning, as I sat in my piazza, he appeared before the window. There he stood—I have his image now before me—he was handcuffed, barefoot, unable to wear his clothes from his yet unhealed back; his wife had fastened some of her garments round his lacerated body. I called him in, and said,

"David, David, what have you done?" With a look of resignation I shall never forget, he replied,

"Don't ask me; ask him that bring me, massa."

Turning to the negro who had him in charge, I said,

"Well, what has this poor man done?"

"Him pray, massa," was the reply; "and buckra send him to the workhouse for punishment."

I gave him some refreshment, (for in the state I have described he had walked thirteen miles under a burning sun,) and followed him to the work-house. He was chained to a fellow-slave by the neck, and sent to work on the public roads. The next day I went to visit him again, when I was informed by the supervisor of the work-house, that he had received orders to have him flogged again, as soon as his back was well enough to bear it. In these chains David remained for months; frequently I saw him, but never did I hear one murmur or one complaint except when he heard that the partner of his joys and sorrows was ill on the estate, and he was forbidden to go and see her.

At the end of three months he was liberated, and, returning to the estate, was asked,

"Now, sir, will you pray again?"

"Massa," said the persecuted disciple, "you know me is a good slave; but, if trouble come for dis, me must pray, and me must teach me broder to pray too."

Again he was immured in a dungeon and his feet made fast in the stocks.

The Rev. J. Underhill, a worthy and zealous minister of Christ, in Staffordshire, (Eng.) met with much persecution in his work. At one time appointed for public worship, an infuriated mob of more than 500, mostly colliers, collected, some armed with clubs, staves, and stones; others had horns and noisy instruments, determined, as they declared, to drive out the methodists, or to destroy them. While the people, and some ministers, were pursued by the rabble, a gentleman called out fiercely to the rioters, pointing to Mr. Underhill, "There is one of the methodist dogs; take notice of him; do your work well, and I will give you a barrel of ale at the end of it." Two of the ministers narrowly escaped with their lives. Mr. Underhill and a brother minister were dragged to a public house; the latter received such a violent blow with a poker from the landlord, that he never entirely recovered from its effects. But, mercifully for the landlord, that was to be his last sin in opposing the gospel. Some time afterwards, these very ministers met the landlord at a house where they supped together; and talking over former scenes of tribulation through which they had together passed, the minister said, "No part appeared so heinous as the conduct of the man who struck me when in quiet custody." He was desired to look on the company, and try to recognize the person. Time had effaced any recollection of his features. Mr. Underhill then said, "Behold, he dippeth with thee in the dish." Here an interesting scene took place. They wept on each other's necks, the landlord bewailing his crime, and entreating forgiveness; and the minister assuring him, that even the loss of life would have been richly repaid by the salvation of one soul.

One of the missionaries in the West Indies gave the following pleasing account to show how highly the converted negroes value their religious privileges:

A slave wished his owner to give him leave to attend with God's people to pray: his answer was, "No, I will rather sell you to any one who will buy you." "Will you," said he, "suffer me to buy myself free, if me can?" "If you do, you shall pay dearly for your freedom, as you are going to pray. Two hundred and fifty pounds is your price." "Well, massa, it is a good deal of money, but me must pray; if God will help me, me will try and pay you!" For a long time he worked hard, and at last sold all he had, except his blanket, to buy his liberty to pray in public; or in other words, to meet with those who love Jesus Christ.

The mission house at Lahaina, one of the Sandwich Islands, was assailed by English seamen. The Rev. Mr. Stewart writes thus from the scene of this outrage:

"How great was my astonishment, at the peculiar circumstances in which I found our inestimable and beloved friends Mr. and Mrs. Richards! How was I surprised to meet, at my first approach to the house, the presented bayonet, and to hear the stern challenge of the watchful sentry, 'who goes there?'—and when I assured him that I was a friend, how inexplicable to my mind was the fact of receiving the cordial embraces of my brother, not in the peaceful cottage of the missionary, but in the midst of a garrison, apparently in the momentary expectation of the attack of a foe, and to find the very couch on which was reclining one, who, to us, has been most emphatically a sister, surrounded by the muskets and the spears of those, known to the world only by the name of savages! My first thoughts were that a revolt of the island against the general government had taken place, in which our friends had been seized, and were guarded as captives—or that some formidable party of unfriendly natives had risen with the determination of destroying them, and that they were protected by the higher chiefs—but as soon as an explanation could be given, I learned that their peril was from false brethren, if the outcasts of a civilized and Christian country can be designated by such terms. The seamen of a large ship, at anchor at Lahaina, exasperated at the restraints laid on their licentiousness through the influence of the mission, had carried their menaces and open acts of violence against Mr. and Mrs. R. to such an extent as to cause the chiefs to arm a body of men to defend them at the hazard of life. At that very hour, three boats' crews, amounting to near forty men, were on shore with the sworn purpose of firing their houses and taking their lives. But as every thing, when I left them, was in a posture to secure their safety, it is unnecessary for me to go further into particulars."

In the month of November, 1836, Mr. Kincaid was summoned from his home to the palace. The early hour and other circumstances indicated that a fearful storm hung over the mission at Ava. Nor was he mistaken in this apprehension. On reaching the royal court, he was confronted with a list of charges, of which the substance is as follows.

The American teacher is stirring up divisions among the people, teaching them to despise the religion of their country, and to follow a religion which the king, the princes and noblemen do not approve. He is not contented to live quietly in the Golden City, as other foreigners do, but in the city and all places around, is giving books and preaching a foreign religion, and his object is to bring into contempt and destroy the religion which has been revered for ages.

After some replies had been made by Mr. K., one of the functionaries told him publicly, that they were determined to stop the distribution of books and preaching. Mr. K. remonstrated on the violence of this proceeding, and then said, "You will allow Papists and Mussulmans to follow their religion unmolested, and converts from among the Burmans are not disturbed." They cried out most violently, "No Burmans enter the Papist and Mussulman religions, and those people do not give books or preach." Mr. K. asked, "Do you intend to drive me out of the country?" One of the leading men replied, "No, but you must promise to give no more books, and not go about preaching." "I cannot make such a promise." "You must promise." "I fear God more than earthly kings, and cannot promise: if you cut off my arms, and then my head, I dare not promise." They then said he was not fit to live in the empire, and must be sent off. The court became exceedingly violent. Although Mr. K. had reason to expect the worst consequences, his personal liberty was not abridged. His labors however were, for a length of time, crippled by the opposition of the government.

After Archbishop Cranmer had been condemned, in the beginning of Queen Mary's reign, to suffer death, they proceeded afterwards to degrade him. To make this appear as ridiculous as possible, they put on him an episcopal habit made of canvas and old rags; Bonner, in the meantime, by way of insult and mockery, called him Mr. Canterbury, and such The statement was made by the secretary of the society, the Rev. Louis Dwight, whose opportunity for observation dad certainly been very great.

## OMNISCIENCE OF GOD.

tured to steal; remembering the truth his child had taught him, that the eye of God always beholds us.

Francis I, king of France, used to declare, "that if he thought the blood in his arm was tainted with the Lutheran heresy, he would have it cut off; and that he would not spare even his own children if they entertained sentiments contrary to the Catholic Church."

According to the calculation of some, about two hundred thousand suffered death in seven years, under Pope Julian; no less than a hundred thousand were massacred by the French in the space of three months; the Waldenses who perished, amounted to one million; within thirty years, the Jesuits destroyed nine hundred thousand; under the Duke of Alva, thirty-six thousand were executed by the common hangman; a hundred and fifty thousand perished in the inquisition; and a hundred and fifty thousand by the Irish massacre; besides the vast multitude of whom the world could neyer be particularly informed, who were proscribed, banished, burned, starved, buried alive, smothered, suffocated, drowned, assassinated, chained to the galleys for life, or immured within the horrid walls of the Bastile, or others of their church or state prisons. According to some, the whole number of persons massacred since the rise of Papacy, amounts to fifty millions!