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Strangely, my soul, art thou array'd
By the great sacred Three,
Let all thy powers agree."
And lest the shadow of a spot
Should on my soul be found,
And cast it all around.
Faith-as a Dowry, the gift of God. So it is.
Faith—the adornings of God. And all these are brought unto us by her royal band.
Now read the 21st and 22nd verses of the Seventh chapter of the First book of Chronicles. Open your Bible. Read for yourself. Of Ephraim the holy penman is writing; and he says, “And Žabad his son, and Shuthelah his son, and Ezer, and Elead, whom the men of Gath slew because they came down to take away their cattle. And Ephraim their father mourned many days, and his brethren came to comfort him.”
Thus Ephraim had “four sons dead in one day;" and, although THE FAITH which the Lord gives can never die, nor fully leave the soul until it enters into glory, yet, the fruits of faith—these four sons—as regards their exercise and enjoyment, are many times cut down, and their fruit, and flower, and fulness all seem gone.
In succeeding chapters I hope to return to the original text; and treat upon the trial of faith. To my friends I present grateful thanks, and I entreat of them, individually, collectively, and perseveringly; I ask them to aid me in circulating these words of Biblical and experimental truth in all corners of our world. Delusions in experience and deceptions in doctrines are rife and rapidly spreading everywhere. I have no faith in any experience but that which is in the Bible. For this Bible experience, -for this Bible salvation, I have contended many, many years. I am still at it. Philosophers and creedsmen despise me. But, the feeble flock of slaughter are sometimes fed by my instrumentality. Satan knows it. He tries to kill me, and to set all the world and the church against me. Brethren ! pray for me, speak for me, and remember I am your servant in the truth
CHARLES WATERS BANKS.
MRS. INGALLS OF THE BAPTIST BURMAH MISSION AMONG
THE BUDDHIST PRIESTS.
We were pleasantly entertained this morning by Mrs. Ingalls, widow of the late missionary of that name, for many years connected with the Baptist Burmah Mission, herself also an active labourer in that field. She came to our office, accompanied by President Sears, of Brown University, and while here related many interesting experiences of her Mission labours, and made frequent reference to the valuable aid
afforded her by the “ Pain Killer,” which is, she says, frequently called by the natives the “God Medicine,” and sometimes worshipped by them.
One instance I will endeavour to give you, as nearly as possible, in her own words. ... One stormy day I was sent for to visit one of their God-men, or high priests, who had been severely wounded, the messenger saying that he was killed. I told him it was no use then for me to go, as my medicine coulă not raise the dead. But he persisted, saying, “ The God Medicine would not surely fail to do him some good.” My native preachers, who better understood the extravagance of their language, urged me strongly to go, feeling that God had, in this way, opened a door to the Gospel, in answer to our many prayers. But I still hesitated, fearing for the reputation of my medicine, which had become a powerful aid in giving me access to the natives. But at length, trusting the result in the care of my Master, I yielded, taking in my hand a bottle of the “ Pain Killer,” the charm that had opened this door, I followed my guide through the monastery into the inner or most sacred place) none but priests are allowed to enter here, and a woman never), where lay the wounded man upon the ground, a ghastly object, covered with blood and apparently dead.
I knew something of the dangers that surronnded me, and notwithstanding my trust in Him who said, “ I will never leave nor forsake you," could not wholly divest myself of fear. Standing beside the dying man, I said to the monks or priests who had followed me in, or were there before, that my medicine could not raise the dead, nor bring back the departed spirit, and that if I failed to restore their friend they should not condemn the medicine. Still, I would do all in my power for the wounded man; but, to begin with, I must have some bandages. They bad none, and could not get any. I pointed to the altar curtain ; but that could not be touched even except by the high-priest.
It was the sacred yellow cloth. I started to leave, saying it would be useless for me to remain, as I could do nothing without means. But they would not let me go. The God-man must be saved, and I might, for this purpose, use the sacred cloth.
I speedily laid profane hands on it, and shortly converted it into bandages, with which, saturated in “ Pain Killer,” I bound up the wounds of the still insensible man.
I then asked for a cup, in which to prepare some of the medicine for him ; but the sacred silver cups of the gods, used only in their religious rites, and never touched by bands profane, were the only cups to be had. To save the God-man I might use one of them, though not one of the priests present dared take and give it to me. I reached and took one, however, and prepared in it, and gave to the unconscious sufferer a strong dose of the “ Pain Killer." Weary now with my exertions and the excitement, and faint, I asked for a chair; but there being no such article in their temple I overturned one of their wooden idols, and rolling it near the wounded man, sat down upon it, amid the horrified looks of the surrounding priests, who seemed momentarily to expect the vengeance of their gods to smite me. The man soon began to show signs of returning consciousness, and seeing me seated upon a prostrate idol, holding the “ God Medicine" in my hand, he unable yet to speak, made a sign with his hand to his companions, who, in obedience, bowed all about me in the attitude of worship.
Feeling that my time had now come, I addressed them, telling them it was not I, nor the medicine, that had done this, but the ever-living God of heaven and earth, who had thus made me an instrument, in his hand, in restoring to them their friend; and I then preached unto them Christ crucified, unto some a stumbling-block, and to others foolishness, but unto them that are called- of whatsoever nation or people—“ the power of God, and the wisdom of God.”
From this time her influence with the priest, as well as with the lower castes, was almost unbounded, and her opportunities for doing them good proportionately increased ; and for this she felt herself greatly indebted to the “ Pain Killer.” Six
years afterward, when leaving Burmah for a visit to her native land, these priests and many of the natives, came to take their leave of her; and this priest, at parting, took her hand, saying apologetically to his followers (for by their rules no priest may look upon, much more touch, a woman, without defilement), “ My mother first gave me life, but this, my God-mother, restored it to me again !”-Yours, &c.,
Α. Ο. Η.
" SAFE! SAFE! SAFE!”
MY DEAR BROTHER,—My dear wife departed this life on the 21st February, 1867. It would be useless to fill pages with the history of her life though it would be very interesting, for up to the age of sixteen hers was one of trials, affliction, and sorrow. From then, until the Lord was pleased to meet with her, she was taken up with the world and the pleasures thereof; but having placed herself under the protection of a kind uncle and aunt, who feared the Lord, their influence brought lier under the sound of the Word. She had cause to bless the Lord many times for placing her in such a position, for she said it was the means of keeping her from many of the sinful pleasures of the world. Eventually she was led to Zoar chapel, Great Alie street, where the Lord was pleased, in a most gracious manner, to call her by His grace, and to reveal Himself unto her as a God, pardoning iniquity, transgression, and sin; and to give her an earnest desire to follow Him in the ordinances of His house. She was baptized by Mr. John Austin, in 1834, and added to the church. She has finished her course, fought the fight, gained the victory, and gone home to be for ever with the Lord.
She was taken ill on the 5th of February, and becoming worse, we deemed it best to send for her medical attendant. When he came, he did not think her case dangerous, and considered with care she would
But speedily getting worse, she had to take to her bed. On the following Monday, we called in a physician, and he gave us no hope. On Tuesday there was a slight turn, and we thought for the better, but when the doctor came he said the change was not sufficient, that we were not to deceive curselves, for he could give little or no hope. Shortly after this, her voice began to fail, so that she could not finish a sentence. She said she wanted to say a good deal to us, but
she could not speak. She tried to repeat a hymn, but could only say, “Long to be." I said, “ Do you mean,
Weary of earth, myself, and sin,
Dear Jesus set me free,
For there I long to be?'”
She wanted to repeat another verse, but could only say, “Oh! glorious!” I said, “Do you mean,
Oh, glorious hour! Oh, bless'd abode,
I shall be near and like my God?'. She looked at me and said, “Yes, yes, that is it. She exclaimed, “My Rock, Rock, Rock !"
find Him the same now ?” She said, “Oh, yes ! precious, sweet, sweet!” And frequently would she say, “Safe, safe, safe ; sweet, sweet!” After dozing for a few minutes, she said to her son, “I have been dead twice!” gested she had been dreaming. She looked up at him and said, “Oh! no; real, real !”
She said, “I thought I should be gone before this ; but no; no; no; not yet.” Upon one occasion she wanted to say something to our dear children, as they stood around her bed; but I could only catch the word, “Follow.”
I said, “Do you mean you want them to follow in the same path?"
She answered, “No, not in the least.” Her mind appeared to be freed from all earthy things, and to be entirely taken up with heavenly things. She looked at me, and said, you have done all you can do ; you can do no more."
I said, “ You are in the hands of a good Physician.”
Her answer was, “Yes, yes.” She affectionately embraced myself and dear children, as well as other dear friends in the room, recognising all around her till within five minutes of her parting breath. She then said, “Praise ! safe ! happy, happy!” And turning on her side, gently passed away, so gently that I scarcely knew she was gone.
She is gone ; but gone to her rest,
No more on this earth to complain,
But with Jesus ever to reign.
Fill'd with delight and with joy;
Seek the growth of faith, and seek it in God's own way; pray over the Scriptures, hear them, read them, meditate on them.
A WORD FOR PUBLISHERS AND AUTHORS, judgment and all the advantages of
his influence-it shall, we say, be OR,
lawful and right to accompany every THE BARK AND THE BRINE such new book, and every such reOF THE BEECH TREES. quest for reviewing such new book,
with a fee, commensurate with the Our word Book comes from the Saxon
time, talent, and outlay required in Bocce, that is, a beech tree.” Any
composing and in publishing all such compact writing was so called, be- criticisms and reviews. Why recause the ancient Germans wrote upon
viewers should not be paid we know the bark of their beech trees. Books
not ; but certainly we think it is one may be called "little beech trees.”
of the customs which need a reform. Paternoster Row may be said to be Until we can get it, however, we must an immense “forest of beech trees."
just go on as we have done, doing the Some of these little trees are sent to
best our time and means will allow ; us, in order that we may examine
and a good large bundle of these them and speak of them in the best beech trees are now before us. Brief way we can.
descriptions of them are hereafter Reviews of Books are frauds com
given. mitted upon the advertising depart
Green's Biblical and Theological Dicment in many cases.
Authors and publishers, who wish us to examine
tionary, published by Elliot Stock, is
a neat and useful companion to the carefully the bark and the brine of
Bible. their beech trees, ought to senil to our advertising agent an advertise- The Young Man Setting out in Life. ment of their production ; but our
By W. Guest, F.G.S. London : tables in our study have heaps of
Jackson, Walford, and Hodder. books and papers for review, while
Christian fathers and praying mothers our advertising columns have no in sending their darlings out into the notice, not of one in every dozen world, will, of course, counsel them books sent to us. All such books we
not to forsake the throne of grace, are supposed to “read, mark, learn,
not to forget the Bible, never to neand inwardly digest ;” and when we
glect those means which are provided have well eaten all the bark, and
in the ministration of the Gospel. drunk the brine of these many beech Too powerfully, too affectionately, trees, then we are to tell all the world too solemnly, these things cannot be how we like them, and whetber or
urged upon the attention of our not we can recommend them. As young friends ; and as a faithful one of the oldest reviewers on the
monitor, Mr. Guest's handsome little land where these beech trees grow in
book will be highly appreciated by all great abundance, we feel authorised who would guard their children or to announce our intention, if ever we
themselves against the thousands of get into the Commons' House of Par- dangerous evils which crowd upon liament and with the new Reform
the young man, and the young Bill, one can hardly say what changes woman, too, when first setting out in
life. Mr. Guest writes his book from may take place—therefore, if we bave a seat some day in the House, we
four sources—from his heart, most should certainly introduce a bill,
affectionately ; from his head, intelmaking it quite lawful and right, that ligently ; from his own observation, whenever an author or a publisher cautiously; and from the testimony shall think fit and expedient to send
of other authors, confirmingly. From to any editor a copy of a new work,
this four-fold storehouse of knowrequesting such editor to read, ex- ledge a book for young men has been, amine, and carefully criticise the said
we think, beautifully produced. work, and also requesting that the The Dreadful Prayer-meeting. This said editor shall write his honest is a four-page tract; it is issued at thoughts upon the character of the the request and cost of a mother in book in question, and by inserting Israel, who, with many others, consuch review in his magazine or paper,
siders it a brief but wonderfully give the book all the benefits of his striking record. It is no fiction ; it