Tertullian boldly challenges his ad. At all these testimonies it is easy versaries as follows: “Bring forth to scoff; it is harder to explain how, before your tribunals a man who is on the hypothesis of their worthlesswell known to be possessed by a de- ness, so many excellent and able men mon. The evil spirit, at the bidding have acted the part either of knaves of a Christian-any one you like or of fools. But it is not attempted will as truly confess himself to be a to upset our witnesses by strict logic. devil as elsewhere he will falsely pro- There is a sad truth in Professor claim himself a god.” He then calls Tyndall's words, that there is a on them to confront a Christian with logical feebleness" in science, and some of the pagan seers, and offers that science “keeps down the weed to let the blood of the Christian an- of superstition, not by logic, but by swer for it, unless the demons are slowly rendering the mental soil unfit again forced to acknowledge them- for its cultivation." Let it keep selves. “What more trustworthy," down superstition by all means; but he asks, “than proof like this? let it beware lest, under the name

Truth in all its simplicity is manifest of superstition, it keep down somebefore you." Origen bears the thing that cannot with impunity be like testimony. “Even nowadays suppressed. It is something of an among Christians there are tokens of admission to allow that science overthe presence of the Holy Ghost, turns religion-for to the writer of who came down in the form of a the above words all religion, ordidove. For they cast out devils, they narily so called, comes under superheal diseases, they foresee the future. stition-not by reasoning, but by the ... Many have embraced the Chris- special habit of mind that it gen. tian religion, as it were, in spite of erates. St. Paul has his description themselves, being suddenly seized by of this habit of mind; and if St. some spirit, whether in a vision or Paul is any authority, his words are in a dream ; so that setting aside the most alarming. At least they should hatred that they had conceived for prompt a man to serious inquiry. our faith, they were resolved in its Otherwise, if he should happen to defence to lay down their lives. We find himself face to face with God ourselves have known many such after death-and many adversaries cases; but were we to record them, allow this to be at least a possible though we were eye-witnesses of the contingency-it would be an awkfacts, we should merely afford matter ward question to be asked, Did you for pleasant mirth to the skeptical.” strive as earnestly to come to the Minutius Felix adds his confirma- knowledge of the Deity as you did tion: “ These things, as many of to make acquaintance with some you know, the devils themselves con- branch of science that very much fess, as often as, by our torturing interested you? And if specially words and by the fire of our prayers, interrogated on the subject of mirthey are drawn forth from men's acles, it would be a sorry reply to bodies." As a last specimen, hear have to say, “Lord, I assumed mirthe words of Lactantius : “At the acles to be a priori impossible. Hence name of Christ the demons tremble, I despised any one who spoke to me and cry out that they are burning of them; and it would to me have or being scourged; asked who they been an occasion of intense shame are, and when they came and en- had I been discovered, by one of my tered into the man, they declare scientific brethren, to have entereverything; and being tortured and tained for a moment the idea of tormented by the power of the Din seriously taking up the investigation vine Name they depart."*

of a matter which we all so much * Vide Migne. Curs. Theolog., tom. iii. ridiculed.”


I SAID, “Thy will be done."
It meant for me, just then, but feeling sure,
My little baby's soul all white and pure

Its home with God had won.

It meant, her sweet, sweet heart
Could never now with woman's sorrows ache,
Nor bleed to know the dear dead hopes that make

Of life so sure a part.

It meant, her little mind
Could never grow to feel the web of care
Entangled round it, making darkness there

Till it no light could find.

It meant, her tiny form,
So dear, so dear, from suffering was free,
And in its lovely sleep so tenderly

Removed from earthly harm.

The little face so fair With peace, the hands so softly clasping flowers, They ne'er had clasped aught else, and Earth's dark powers

Could now place naught else there.

The baby's wordless cries
Of pain forever hushed, while near the Throne
In Heaven's language prayed my little one,

That I, to it, might rise.

It meant, the royal name,
An Angel's Mother, now on me bestowed,
Winning me honor in the Court of God

Surpassing earthly fame.

And so to that dear God
To say, “ Thy will be done,” was but more deep
Within my bruised heart the prints to keep

His feet made as they trod.

But now, but now, it seems
To mean, that on this sad and hungry breast-
Hung'ring for her-she never more will rest

And dream her baby-dreams;

. And that, forever, I Must miss the pretty, eager search for food, The hands stretched out in sweet, impatient mood,

The little, wistful cry.

The joy no words could tell
To watch her draw my life into her own,
That priceless joy to mothers given alone,

By mothers loved so well.

It seems to mean, the sight
Of little white robes, useless laid away,
Dear little white robes ! to my heart, they say,

“ Not us, but robes of light.

It seems to mean, a part
Of my own life into that grave has gone,
Where in her pale sleep lies my little one,

Whilst for it calls my heart.

It seems to mean, the loss
Of what that heart can never find again,
Must long for, and must seek, but all in vain.

Instead, it finds the Cross.

It seems to mean, the years
That I, presumptuous, laid out for her life,
Dreaming I with all good could make them rife,

Must now be marked with tears.

Upon thy white couch laid, Whilst brightest flow'rs around thy sweet form smiled, Thou wert a lovely sight, my own, own child,

I scarce could think thee dead.

But now, when time has flown,
The time they said would heal, and all in vain
I long to press thee to my heart again,

I feel, indeed, thou’rt gone.

But though thus bitter now The pain of this heart-wound, I know that still 'Tis but the working of the dear God's will,

And so I still can bow

Beneath the bleeding feet,
Fast to the Cross of Calv'ry nailed for me,
And there, I still can say, my God, to Thee-

Knowing that, far more sweet

Because from suff'ring won,
My prayer will be unto Thy list'ning ear,
And, for its sorrow, to Thy heart more dear-

“Thy holy will be done !"


MRS. JOHN ROLANDSON, sitting in gaged in the foreign fruit trade. solitary state at her handsome break- Bringing to his work not only money fast-table, read with curiously min- and name, but a hearty liking for gled emotions a foreign letter, just the occupation, he rose steadily and received. Time, place, and educa- quickly, and while still a very young tion must be seriously weighed, to man was admitted as junior member comprehend her state of mind. It of the firm. was anniversary week, so dear to In spite of the disappointment he Boston Protestants. In plain view had caused her, he was the very pride from the windows of her suburban res- and joy of his mother's heart. She was idence lay the old Puritan city; above a tall and stately woman, but she lookthe green trees of the Common rose ed small beside her son's broad shoulthe steeple of Park Street Church, ders and unusual height, while her and behind it, hidden from sight, brunette locks, early and beautifully but clear and dear in Mrs. Roland- white, were in striking contrast to son's memory, was the “Old South," his tawny hair and beard, blue eyes, of which her father and her father's and Saxon color. He was a pattern father had been members.

son in his devotion to his mother ; Mrs. Rolandson was an orthodox no other lady had ever shared her Congregationalist of the straitest place in his heart, his evenings were sect. Had the Old South come un- given to her, she knew all his friends, der the hammer in her day, she pleasures, and occupations, and would have taxed tongue and purse thought his life, morally, as spotless and influence to save it, but no and honorable as that of any man dream of such a disaster had ever she had ever met. But, religiously, crossed her mind. She was an influ- Jaspar failed her. Once a week, upon ential member of Bible Society, “the Sabbath,” he went with her to Tract Society, Dorcas Society; it meeting, stood in the pew with his was more than rumored that some arms folded upon his sturdy chest, widely circulated tracts were the and his eyes raised to the soundingwork of her active brain. When one board as if it possessed some charm by one her husband and her children to hold them until the final amen died, leaving her at forty a widow released them, listened to the sermon with an only son, Jaspar, she threw with unflagging attention and a gaze herself more ardently than ever be- as steady upon the preacher's face as fore into religious works, thus to dull it had been upon the sounding-board the heartache, and quiet the haunt- one half hour before ; then he came ing memories of the past.

home, and picked prayer and sermon She had always planned that Jaspar to pieces with a withering sarcasm should become a minister, but he which from anybody else would have himself crushed all such hopes. Not roused Mrs. Rolandson's utmost ire, only did he refuse to study for so but from him was received with grief high an office, but he scorned the indeed, but also with admiration, thought of any profession whatever, for what was in truth a very clever rebelled against a collegiate course mind. Sometimes she lamented, for even amidst the classic shades of his sake, that they were not living Harvard, developed a decided busi- in the city, where they could go to ness talent, and entered a store en- the Old South as his forefathers had done, or to some other place of wor- Jaspar promised. “If I cannot inship where the finest preachers were fluence them after your fashion, at to be heard; but Jaspar scouted the least I will let you know their conidea.

dition faithfully. It won't be the "I tell you, mother,” he would first thing of the kind that I have say, but the words would be accom- done, and in fact I am glad of any panied by a smile and a tone which change in the present style of recharmed half their bitterness away, ligion." “it's not the man that can make any From that time Mrs. Rolandson difference with me, nor the elo- lived in a kind of dream. She used quence. I'm no logician and no to say afterwards that she seemed to theologian, but there's a root idea herself like a target, against which wrong somewhere in your Puritan one arrow after another was sent by system.”

a marksman whose unerring aim it So Jaspar Rolandson never gave was impossible to foresee or escape. a penny to the Foreign Missionary She dreaded and she longed for the Society, which was his mother's fa- letters which came each week with vorite benefaction. “It only teaches unfailing regularity across the sea. the heathen how Christians hate one From the outset her boy was in the another,” he said ; and he made fun enemy's camp, and from the outset of her tracts, and took a wicked he appeared to feel, and not to hate, pleasure in drawing her attention to the enemy's deadly fascinations. A the irreverent witticisms which dec- Catholic priest had the stateroom next orated the pages of the Bibles left his own. Four Sisters of Charity were by her beloved Bible Society in among the passengers, and even ocsteamboat saloons and railway sta- casionally to be seen in their quaint tions. But Mrs. Rolandson knew garb. that the old applewomen on the “These sisters, poor, misguided Common, and the newsboys on beings,” Jaspar wrote to his mother, 'change, and downtrodden needle- “shun all intercourse with us who women, and clerks in straitened cir- could teach them the better way. cumstances, thought, and had good We have had a great scare on board, reason to think Jaspar the prince of although, fortunately, only a few of merchants, in his unfailing daily us know of it. There is a case of thoughtful kindness; so she buoyed spotted fever, an old negro who was her heart with texts about him who employed by the steward. They have shows mercy to the poor and needy, shut him up in some safe out-of-theand hoped for some future day when way hole, and one of the sisters is her Jaspar surely would be converted. nursing him, as pleased with the

By and by he had to leave her for chance, so the surgeon expresses it, awhile; he was sent to Italy on busi- as if she were in heaven. How I ness. Mrs. Rolandson lamented his long for some of your tracts to send lack of serious interest in spiritual to her. She might profit by them matters, for he might have sent her, in her solitude.” she said, such a good account of And again : “This priest is really the religious destitution of that be- a capital travelling companion. He nighted and superstitious land; his is actually a scholar and a gentleman, one scholarly talent had been for and sometimes I could almost fancy languages, and he had carefully cul- him a Christian, only of a different tivated it; it would have given him sort from any I ever saw before. He great influence for good over the is certainly very accomplished, permisguided people whom he was haps the most thoroughly educated about to meet.

man I ever met, and yet, so far as I “I will do my best, mother," can see, he believes thoroughly, and

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