Oldalképek
PDF
ePub

delightful and refreshing meetings as that of Tuesday evening last, when the pious ministers and other members of the Evangelical Alliance there assembled for devotional exercises and the cultivation of brotherly and affectionate feeling. And these effects, let it be distinctly understood, will take place, whoever may be the party that shall obtain possession of it under force of the judgment pronounced. And no citizen of Manchester would dare to cross its threshold while such minister was officiating, without, encouraging the violation of the law as now declared by that functionary. The decision will also excommunicate the pulpit and any congregation that may attend from more than nineteen-twentieths of the whole Presbyterian world, as well as from all other denominations of Christians whatever. "The above decision seems to have been arrived at by the Judge, under the influence of strong feelings, and, as it is conceived, by the want of a competent knowledge of the ecclesiastical principles, usages, and polity of Presbyterians, and of our proper position in England as a Church, notwithstanding that these were fully and ably set forth by our legal advisers and pleaders during the several days of argument. Had the case been taken by our opponents before the Vice-chancellor of England, Sir Lancelot Shadwell, who is well known as a judge of temperate feelings and of good acquaintance with ecclesiastical history, especially in what relates to Presbyterians in England, Scotland, and Ireland, instead of Sir J. L. Knight Bruce, a different result it may be presumed would have taken place. So strong were the feelings of the latter that he actually refused to suspend the operation of his decision until an appeal should be heard before the Lord Chancellor as the superior Judge. On this unaccountable refusal application was the next day made to the Lord Chancellor to stay its operation, who, while granting this motion, did not fail to remark that it would be highly unjust to refuse it.' The case, then, you will perceive, is not yet finally disposed of; but the judgment of the Lord Chancellor will settle it. It has been deemed right to appeal, whatever may be the result. Since the defence of your property has been engaged, it is proper to see the suit fairly out. The Apostle Paul, in defence of his rights as a citizen, appealed to what he deemed a more competent judge; and though ultimately unsuccessful, yet that did not make it less a duty on his part to appeal. All despatch on our part will be used to bring the matter to an issue; and it is expected that the case will be heard by the end of April or the beginning of May. It may also be noted that we are not in the meantime prevented, if we choose, from still worshipping in the church; yet, in order not to lie under any obnoxious though suspended decision, and to prevent any disturbance to your worship on God's holy day, it has been considered the wisest course to meet here. That there was at least some ground for such fear of disturbance may be fairly inferred from the unseemly assault which took place the other

day, when, while I sat with the elders and deacons in deliberation, certain persons (Mr. John Shepherd, Mr. James Young, Mr. John Young, his son, and Captain Brown, keeper of the Museum here, accompanied by a band of coarse fellows of the baser sort, packers collected from the neighbouring warehouses) forcibly rushed into the session house, and, with Mr. George Spence, having picked and torn off the locks from the front doors, stationed themselves in the church. This improper conduct and disorderly act, we are advised, was altogether unauthorized and illegal, and in every way unwarranted, even as a pretext, by the decision or directions of the ViceChancellor.-This, my friends, is not the place, and not the day, for entering more at large into this matter; but I cannot refrain from adding, on my own behalf, and that of the office-bearers, that we have scripturally, constitutionally, and consistently administered the affairs of the Church. Mr. Munro then adverted to the circumstances under which he had first come among them sixteen years ago, and the many tokens of their affection he had during that time received at their hands. He had endeavoured to discharge faithfully the duties of his office. He had held firmly by the principles of the Bible and the standards of the Presbyterian Church. To these standards he still adhered, and he hoped he would ever continue to defend and maintain them. He was the first to summon the ministers of the district as a Presbytery, and had drawn up the articles of union for it, and also for the Synod of the Presbyterian Church. He had continued to stand at his post, in the face of much obloquy, and enduring the evil offices of avowed foes, and of those from whom might have been expected better things. For three years prior to 1840 he had gone to the General Assembly in Scotland, seeking connexion and representation, thinking thereby to obviate some evils then existing. The claim was refused by the Assembly. The latter drew out an act which told them (the Presbyterian Church in England) to govern themselves and to manage their own affairs, as we could not be under their jurisdiction, but must be an independent Church; and now they came into England and pretend to cut off their ministers and to drive them from their property, realized by the liberality of their merchants, the earnestness of their workmen, and the mites of their widows. Mr. Munro then exhorted the congregation to stand by and be faithful to their spiritual privileges, and to maintain the truth in a spirit of charity and faith, and whatever difficulties were in their way God in his good time would send them deliverance. The office-bearers had concurred with him in the statement he had made, and they reckoned on the countenance and co-operation of the congregation that it might never be said that they, who had stood so long faithful to their trust, and from whom had emanated so many liberal impulses, and such large and frequent acts of liberality to other churches, should now be thrown down, and their Christian liberty trampled in the dust."

THE ENGLISH

PRESBYTERIAN MESSENGER.

A LECTURE TO HEADS OF FAMILIES.

BY THE REV. JAMES HAMILTON, REGENT-SQUARE CHURCH, LONDON.

SUPPOSE that a relic of Eden were found, -suppose a traveller were guided to its identical locality, you can imagine what surprise and curiosity would be forthwith awakened, and how many pilgrims would resort to the wonderful scene. But even though the very spot could now be ascertained, though you found it all unaltered as if no flood had passed over it, and all fresh as if it had dropped into a trance the moment the sentinel cherub took his station at the gate—though you could break the spell, and let the spicy forest wave afresh, and Pison roll down anew his gravel of gold and gems,scented turf and living flowers, golden streams and warbling groves, could not conjure up to a godless spirit "Paradise Restored. An absent Creator and a guilty mind would make a dreary desert of the earthly heaven.

But there is no need to travel far, no need to wander up the sides of Euphrates, nor scale the Himalayahs, nor ransack the islands of the Southern Sea. If you are really desirous to find relics of Eden you may find them nearer your own abode. But in order to discover them a previous process on your own part is requisite. You must get back into something of the same state in which our sinless progenitors were. From the great atonement clearly discerned and joyfully embraced, you must get into the peace of God. You must learn through Jesus Christ to look up to God as your own God and Heavenly Father, and believing the Bible you must recognise his pervasive No. 5.-New Series.

presence and transfusive love in those scenes which to the worldling are "empty and void."

And when thus enlightened the first institution in which you may detect a remnant of Eden, is the Christian Sabbath. In its tranquil seclusion, in its peaceful worship, in its praise and prayer, in its meditative leisure, in its voice of Jehovah, in its invitations upwards, in its opportu nities of communion with God, the only fragment of Paradisaic time now extant is this day of the Son of man.

And the other institution in which you may hail the relic of a better world is HOME. If founded on piety and filled with love, it is a nearer approach to the landscape of Eden than is the brightest garden or the balmiest bower. It may be a hut whose many chinks let in the frosty blast. It may be a cabin set down on a lonely wild, and to which friendly faces seldom find the way. Or it may be a narrow chamber dim-sighted and short of breath, absconding among the soot and sultry exhalations of the pent-up city lane. But if Heaven's window be open over it; if intelligence, and trust, and harmony have there their dwelling; if the door be barred by Christian principle and the walls be lined by brotherly love; if its atmosphere be renewed by daily prayer and its darkness lit up by cheerful piety, its inward economy is a little emblem of the Father's House on high, and a great help towards reaching it.

Before it can be this, however, it must
VOL. I.

L

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

admiring, as well as affectionate eyes with which they first learned to view one another? And is not this another glory of 'the Gospel, that however lovely its possessor be, it still keeps something in reserve, and teaches us that the noble one shall be nobler still, and the fair one fairer still, and that we shall never see the end of this perfection? Besides all the truth and leal-heartedness which it inspires, it is a great blessing of real religion that it enkindles sentiment. Over this bleak and thread-bare world it spreads a charm which romance could not create, but which no reality can dissipate, for itself is the most real of all things; and over the desert of daily life it effloresces beauties which Guido never saw, and Spenser never fancied. It binds kindred spirits together in bonds more lasting than the vulgar links of convenience or convention, and counting on that world where they neither marry nor are given in marriage, it creates a higher regard and a holier affection than congeniality could commence or strictest vows per

III. What they ought to be to the servants and other inmates of their dwell-petuate; and into ordinary intercourse ing.

And as the subject is one of practical and vital moment, I pray the Lord to give me a word in season.

I. And I shall hope that I am addressing those who love one another in the Lord; who find in the Saviour an object of pre-eminent and holy affection, and in his service a subject of common concern and ever-freshening interest. I shall suppose myself addressing those who are well assured of each other's Christian sincerity, and who are cheered by the blessed hope that whatever hour may part them, the same glory will receive them. And to such the Bible directions for mutual happiness are briefly these.

1. It bids them be mutually respectful. It tells the husband to "give honour" to the wife, and the wife is told to "see that she reverence her husband." When Oberlin was eighty years of age he was one day met by some of his parishioners ascending a steep hill and leaning on the arm of his son-in-law, whilst his wife was walking behind by herself. Frail as he was he felt it an anomaly, and thought it needful to stop and explain the reason. Was not it a fine feature in the old worthy's character? and whilst intended as a tribute to his wife, was it not a striking proof of his Christian chivalry? And are not those the happiest unions where they still see with somewhat of the

and familiar incidents there are constantly coming mementoes which elevate the soul and irradiate one another,—such thoughts as Heaven, Jesus, Immortality.

2. But not only does the Gospel fill with its own lively hope a Christian union, but it raises a standard of conjugal devotedness and endearment formerly unknown in the world. "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the Church, and he is the Saviour of the body. Therefore as the Church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the Church and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, that he might present it to himself a glorious Church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish." Christ loved the Church, and such was his affection for it that he did not grudge years of hardship and suffering, and eventual death, that he might win it to himself. But more than that, his love all flowed in a holy channel. He loved the Church in order to make it holy. Through all his love he sought to sanctify it. And those who are joined in this hallowed relation are to take the Redeemer himself as the

model of their love. They are to be so devoted as to grudge nothing in each other's behalf; but in all their attachment and complacency they are never to forget the grand result to which their union should tend, the growth of each in holiness. The consciousness of faults and deficiencies in his disciples, did not cool towards them the Saviour's affection. It only excited all his wisdom and tender skill to make them better; and by a treatment in which superhuman sagacity and divine benignity were beauteously blended, by expedients as full of grace and gentleness as they were full of lofty purpose, he revealed and removed the sins which did most easily beset them. And so true was his affection, and so dignified and delicate his treatment, that these disciples, even when most convicted and most humbled, never felt hurt. There was no arrogance in his tone, no disdain in his spirit, no bitterness nor vexation in his manner, and, after every lesson or reproof, they felt, if he had loved them from the first, he loved them more than ever now. (John xiii.) And in this the Divine Redeemer is presented as a model to those whom the most sacred of earthly ties unites. Their love must not only be mutual devotedness, but it must aim at mutual improvement. Most likely, months or years of constant intercourse will bring out defects and failings;

but instead of cooling the ardour of other days or awakening harsh emotions, they are opportunities for the triumph of Christian love. They are occasions for telling one another frankly the fault, so frankly that sin shall not be suffered, but so tenderly that affection shall not be wounded. And, Oh! did we but attain to something of the Saviour's spirit, were love to holiness the golden thread which ran through our love to one another, there would be no need for flattery, no fear of fault-finding, no longer occasion that love should be blind. But seeking with supreme solicitude each other's growth in grace, anxious for each other's sanctity, avowing as our aim something akin to the Divine Redeemer's own, who is bent on creating a "glorious Church, not having spot or wrinkle, but holy and without blemish," there would be less risk of affection mounting up to idolatry or dwindling to disappointment and contempt. Those who were joined for life together would find abundant errands to the throne of grace, and new objects in

their reading and hearing and observation of others; and instead of sitting in judgment on others they would be watchful over themselves. And as the result of fidelity and meekness, as the effect of a supreme desire on either side to grow more holy and heavenly-minded, and as the fruit of their common contributions to each other's character, it would soon come to pass that if their friends had reason to esteem them before, they will have more reason to admire them now, and will find in them a fulfilment of the proverb, "Two are better than one." II. What they ought to be to their children.

Just think a moment and tell me, what is it which chiefly makes a home? Perhaps you have read the autobiography of a popular German writer still living. When a few weeks old he lost his mother, and till he grew up he was very roughly foot-balled through the world. He tells very touchingly a journey which he took when a young student, tramping it wearily along the wintry roads, and I may read in his own words a little incident at a country inn where he stopped for the night. "As I entered the parlour darkened by the evening twilight, I was suddenly wrapped in an unexpected embrace, while amid showers of tears and kisses I heard these words, 'Oh! my child, my dear child.' Though I knew that this greeting was not for me, yet the motherly pressure seemed to me the herald of better days, the beautiful welcome to a new and better world, and a sweet trembling passed over me. As soon as lighted candles came in the illusion vanished. The modest hostess started from me in some consternation; then looking at me with smiling embarrassment, she told me that my height exactly corresponded to that of her son, whom she expected home that night from a distant school. As he did not arrive that night she tended and served me with a loving cordiality, as if to make amends to herself for the disappointment of his absence. The dainties which she had prepared for him she bestowed on me, and next morning she packed up a supply of provisions, procured me a place in the diligence, wrapped me up carefully against frost and rain, and refusing to impoverish my scanty purse by taking any payment, dismissed me with tender admonitions and motherly farewells. Yet all this kindness was bestowed, not on me, but on the

image of her absent son! Such is a mother's heart! I cannot describe the feelings with which I left the village. My whole being was in a strange delicious confusion." And in point of fact that motherly embrace had opened in the bosom of the orphan boy the fountain of soft pure fancies which have rendered Henry Zchokke the most popular storywriter in all his fatherland. It was the only night when he had ever known a home, and from that brief hour he carried enough away to give a new aspect and assurance to all his future life. And I might ask again, what is it makes the home? And you would answer, A mother's love.

You know what it would be to spend one of these winter evenings in a chamber without a fire on the hearth or a carpet on the floor; even though the furniture were costly and the friends congenial, nothing could impart the lacking comfort or diffuse the wonted radiance. And in this wintry world a tender mother's love, and a pious mother's care, are the carpet on the floor and the blaze on the evening hearth. They make the home, and to life's latest moment they mingle in every picture of pre-eminent happiness:

'Tis now become a record little known,

That once we called the pastoral house our own.
Short-lived possession! but the record fair,
That memory keeps of all thy kindness there,
Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced
A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Thy nightly visits to my chamber made,
That thou might'st know me safe and warmly laid;
Thy morning bounties ere I left my home,
The biscuit or confectionary plum';
The fragrant waters on my cheeks bestow'd
By thine own hand, till fresh they shone and glowed.
All this, and more endearing still than all,
Thy constant flow of love that knew no fall,
All this may still be read in memory's page
And shall be so unto my latest age.

Now those of you who are best acquainted with the world, or who have read most extensively the histories of men, will allow that in the formation of character the most telling influence is the early home. It is that home which often in boyhood has formed beforehand our most famous scholars, our most celebrated heroes, our most devoted missionaries. And even when men have grown up reckless and reprobate, and have broken all restraints human and divine, the last anchor which has dragged, the last cable they have been able to snap, is the memory which moored them to a virtuous home. And in that home again, the presence most pervasive and sacred, the haunting sanctity most hindersome to vice, and the tearful entreaty most diffi

cult to scowl away or trample down, has been the remembrance of a mother's prayers and the silent remonstrance of a mother's calm and holy walk.

And seeing that such is the power of maternal influence can we lay it too strongly on the maternal conscience, that God has said of all their younger children, "Take this child and bring it up for me?" Over these children God has given you almost absolute control. He has made them so, that, for many days to come, except by some uncommon error on your part, they will love you more than any human being. And of all others you are the most constantly with them. In these unnatural days, days when we are in such a hurry that except on Sabbaths, households never get a glance of one another, in these days you are the only parent who has leisure to take pains with your children. If their father be ever so worldly, he cannot much interfere with your instructions; and though he should be ever so exemplary, the responsibility is still your own, for he has not leisure to help you. And though he had nothing else to do, he has not the aptitude to teach and to train them; so that the earlier and most influential years of life are all the mother's own.

What is it then which you mainly seek for your children? Is it the kingdom of Heaven and the righteousness thereof? Do you distinctly desire above all things that they should become devoted disciples of Christ, and go forth into subsequent life holy and consistent characters, filled with the Saviour's love, and seeking in their turn to commend him? their conduct presenting Him in the aspect which should make Him dear and attractive to others? Surely this is the grand concern. Should the grace of God take possession of your children's souls, and should they pass out into society or active existence with principles strengthened and tastes sublimed by a Saviour's love, it will matter not so much what calling they select or what station on earth they fill.

And towards this blessed end it is a great step to have your mind made up, and to know what your object really is. Most grand results have been attained, not by a solitary and paroxysmal effort, but by continuous and patient toil. In earthly things it has usually been when the soul was timeously possessed by some splendid object, and was content to travel towards it through years of self-denial and silent industry, that a signal consummation has been gained. And in

« ElőzőTovább »