SACRED POETRY. HYMN. By G. M. BELL. Author of the "Scottish Martyrs," &c. An humble suppliant, Lord, to thee. Lord guide me by thy gracious hand, MISCELLANEOUS. The Fountain of Elisha and the Mount of Temptation. The road from Jericho to Jerusalem presents some historical reminiscences of the most interesting nature. When entering the mountains which protect the western side of the plain, the attention of the traveller is invited to the Fountain of Elisha, the waters of which were sweetened by the power of the prophet. The men of Jericho represented to him that though the situation of the town was pleasant, "the water was naught, and the ground barren. And he said, Bring me a new cruse, and put salt therein; and they brought it to him. And he went forth unto the spring of the waters, and cast the salt in there, and said, Thus saith the Lord, I have healed these waters; there shall not be from thence any more death or barren land. So the waters were healed unto this day, according to the saying of Elisha which he spake." Its waters are at present received in a basin about nine or ten paces long, and five or six broad; and from thence, issuing out in a copious stream, divide themselves into several small rills, dispersing their refreshment to all the land as far as Jericho, and rendering it exceedingly fruitful. Advancing into the savage country, through which the usual road to the capital is formed, the tourist soon finds himself at the foot of the mountain called Quarantina, from being the supposed scene of the temptation and fast of forty days endured by our Saviour, who, Looking round on every side, beheld 66 A pathless desert dusk with horrid shades: And he still on was led, but with such thoughts Lodged in his breast, as well might recommend The neighbourhood of this lofty eminence is, according to Mr Maundrell, a dry, miserable, barren place: consisting of high rocky mountains, so torn and disordered, as if the earth had here suffered some great convulsion, in which its very bowels have been turned out. ward." From these hills of desolation, however, there is obtained a magnificent prospect of the Plain of Jericho, the Dead Sea, and of the distant summits of Arabia; for which reason the highest of the group has been assigned by tradition as the very spot whence all the kingdoms of the world were seen in a moment of time. It is, as St. Matthew styles it, an exceeding high moun→ tain, and in its ascent not only difficult but dangerous. It has a small chapel at the top, and another about half-way down, founded upon a projecting part of the rock. Near the latter are observed several caves and holes, excavated by the solitaries, who thought it the most suitable place for undergoing the austerities of Lent, a practice which has not, even at the present day, fallen altogether into disuse. Hasselquist describes the path as " dangerous beyond imagination. I went as far up on this terrible mountain of temptation as prudence would admit, but ventured not to go to the top, whither I sent my servant, to bring what natural curiosities he could find, whilst I gathered what plants and insects I could find below."-Russell's Palestine. The Sackcloth of Scripture.-Mr Harmer tells us that "it was a coarse kind of woollen cloth, such as they made sacks of, and neither haircloth, nor made of hemp; nor was there that humiliation in wearing it which we suppose." This is incorrect, because the Scripture expressly mentions, Rev. vi. 12, "the sun became black as sackcloth of hair;" and Isa. 1. 8, "I clothe the heavens with blackness, I make sackcloth their covering." Sackcloth, then, was made of hair, and it was black. The prophets wore it at particular times, and agreeably to that custom, the two witnesses, Rev. xi. 3, are represented as clothed in sackcloth; implying the revival and resumption of the ancient prophetic habiliment. It was used in these cases to express mourning. It appears, also, to have been employed to enwrap the dead, when about to be buried; so that its being worn by survivors was a kind of assimilation to the departed; and its being worn by penitents was an implied confession that their guilt exposed them to death. This may be gathered from an expression of Chardin, who says, "Kel Anayet, the Shah's buffoon, made a shop in the seraglio, which he filled with pieces of that kind of stuff of which winding sheets for the dead are made: and again, "the sufferers die by hundreds, wrapping-cloth is doubled in price." However, in later ages, some nations might bury in linen, yet others still retained the use of sackcloth for that purpose. -Harris' Natural History of the Bible. Funeral of a Christian Greenlander. When any of the Christian Greenlanders appear to be dying, one of the missionaries imparts the blessing of the congregation to them, with imposition of the hands, and as soon as the spirit has departed, the relations dress the corpse, and sew it up in a skin, instead of depositing it in a coffin. Being placed on a bier, it is covered with a white cloth, on which is inscribed a Greenland verse, usually in reference to the resurrection, the letters of which are After a funeral discourse in formed of red ribbons. the church, four of the Greenlanders carry it to the grave, one of the missionaries going before, and the other Greenlanders following behind, two and two in a row. It is then committed to the cold and silent dust, in the joyful hope of a happy resurrection.-Crantz's History of Greenland. CONTENTS.-The Care of the Soul. Part I. By Rev. R. Smith, D.D.--The Orphan. Translated from the French. Part 1.-" Remember the Sabbath Day to Keep it Holy." By Rev. D. Macfarlan, No. 1.-Discourse. By Rev. J. Paul.-A Rabbinical Story of Solomon. By Rev. R. Jamieson.-A_Missionary Tour to Goa and the North of Canara. By Rev. J. Wilson, D. D.-Christian Treasury. Extracts from Thomson, Toplady, Bacon, and Wilcox. -Sacred Poetry. Hymn. By G. M. Bell.-Miscellaneous. Published by JOHN JOHNSTONE, at the Offices of the SCOTTISH CHRISTIAN HERALD, 2, Hunter Square, Edinburgh, and 19, Glassford Street, Glasgow; JAMES NISBET & Co., HAMILTON, ADAMS & Co., and R. GROOMBRIDGE, London; W. CURRY, Junr. & Co. Dublin; and W. M'CoмB, Belfast; and sold by the Booksellers and Local Agents in all the Towns and Parishes of Scotland; and in the principal Towns in England and Ireland. Subscribers in Town will have their copies delivered at their own residences regularly, by leaving their addresses with the Publisher. Subscription (payable in advance) per quarter, of twelve weeks, Is. 6d., and the other periods in proportion, THE SCOTTISH CHRISTIAN HERALD, CONDUCTED UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF MINISTERS AND MEMBERS OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. THE COMMON OPERATIONS OF THE BY THE REV. ROBERT CRAIG, A. M., PRICE 1d. my words." And Paul (Col. iii. 16.) says, "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly." And they are the words of the Spirit, (2 Peter i. 21,) "Holy men of old spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." And (1 Peter i. 11,) "The prophets searched what, or what manner of time, the Spirit of Christ which was in them did signify." And Paul declares, (1 Cor. ii. 13,) "which things we speak, not in the words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth." And even what Christ spoke with his own human lips, he spoke by the Spirit, (Luke iv. 18,) "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me; because he hath anointed me to preach the Gospel to the poor." And, (John iii. 34,) “For he whom God hath sent speaketh the words of God; for God giveth not the Spirit by measure unto him." THE Word of God, and the ordinances which it appoints, produce, in a natural way, many impressions on the hearts even of those men who are never converted to Christ. These impressions, and the practical effects of them, whether in the way of yielding or of resistance, may be regarded as the fruit of the common operations of the Spirit of God. They are common; for almost all men, who have been brought up under these means of salvation, have, at one period or other, and to a greater or less extent, experienced them; while they are shared in common by those who proceed no farther in religion than these lead to, and by those whom special grace conducts at length to eternal glory. What youth, for example, instructed in the Scriptures, and trained to the observance of divine ordinances from childhood, has not at times felt certain stirrings in his conscience, certain plead-three divine Persons is equally in these words; ings for God in his soul, certain movements towards holier resolutions in his heart, certain restraints upon his conduct, and certain anticipations of judgment, and heaven, and hell, which, if they have not issued, by supernatural increases, in his conversion, have either left him more moral than he would otherwise have been, or more inexcusable and wretched in the guilt of having slighted or extinguished them? These impressions, so common in a land of Bibles and ordinances, are to be ascribed to the Spirit of God. In proof of this, consider, that He, no less than the Father and the Son, is the Author of the Scriptures. The Scriptures are indeed the Word of the ever-blessed Three-One-God. They are the Word of the Father; for Christ, addressing the Father, says, (John xvii. 8,) "I have given unto them the words which thou gavest me." And in the same Gospel, (xii. 49,) he says, "For I have not spoken of myself; but the Father which sent me, he gave me a commandment, what I should say, and what I should speak." They are the words of Christ, for he calls them his own, (John xiv. 23,) If a man love me, he will keep VOL. III. The words of Scripture are, therefore, the words of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. They are the unanimous expressions to fallen men of the unanimous will and graces of the Godhead, for men's salvation. The mind of the so that whatever impressions or effects are produced on men by them, are to be ascribed, at lesat, as much to the Spirit, as to the Father, or the Son; and resistance to them is clearly resistance to Him, as well as to the Father or the Son. We ought also to understand and remember, that the Scriptures were not only thus originally spoken to men, communicating to them at that time the mind of the Eternal Three, but that they continue still to be the same utterance. They do not now contain merely the record of what was, but are the constant declaration still of what is, the divine mind. So that when we read them, or hear them read, we are actually listening, as it were, to what God is at this moment saying to The effects which the Word of God produces, | the Spirit, and is therefore, in reality, a grieving or the impressions it makes upon us, are specially of the Spirit himself. connected with the Spirit; for he comes nearest And let it not be thought that such acts and us in all these things. In the work of human re-feelings are nothing more than simple sins, like demption, the Son is the servant of the Father, all other sins committed against God; for they and the Holy Spirit the servant of both, their per- have this fearful peculiarity, that they are comfect equality admitting of such a willing official mitted against the special means which a redeemarrangement for the accomplishment of a great ing God has put into the hands of his Holy Spirit, work which required it, and for securing the and against the special impressions which, in his greater glory to them all. The Word and ordi- administration of the means of grace, his Spirit nances are, therefore, more immediately put under makes on the sinner's feelings and conscience. the charge of the Spirit: for which reason, the They are not only rebellion against God's high Gospel is called "a dispensation of the Spirit." authority, but also aversion and resistance to the And hence it is that, whatever may be the legiti- approaches and offers of his grace. mate impressions it makes on men's hearts and lives, however feeble and transient these impressions may be, they are to be ascribed to his agency: they are made by his Word, in which he constantly speaks, and by that Word of God with which it is his special office to work on the hearts and consciences of men. In like manner, any neglect, or resistance, or perversion of this Word, is, on that very account, a direct grieving, or vexing, or quenching of God's Holy Spirit. THE ORPHAN. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE, TRANSLATED FROM Most of our readers are probably acquainted, if not The amount of the Spirit's operations in this manner, and the temporal benefits they confer, who can calculate? All the light communicated by his administration of the Word and ordinances to the understanding; all the power which they give to natural conscience; all the restraints which they thus impose upon the passions of men, by those prospects of final retribution, which they open up; all the influence which laws and customs founded on them exert over the outward conduct of men, make up a sum of temporal benefits to a people which it is impossible too highly to estimate, but which most men overlook or disown. Undoubtedly a nation like ours owes far more than is ever conceived to what we call the common operations of the Spirit, or the natural working of the supernatural instruments of this divine Benefactor, for a vast proportion of the force of its laws, the order of its society, and the benevo-heart, and to deepen and refine its affections, in prolence of its institutions. If the above is a just view of this solemn subject, it becomes men well to consider the guilt of neglecting the Word of God, or of smothering the sentiments which it awakens in their consciences and hearts; or of opening the book of God with carelessness or levity; or of speaking lightly and profanely of sacred things; or of turning the revelations of God and his Spirit into a defence either of error or of wickedness; or of looking on the feelings which the Scriptures and ordinances produce at any time in their minds, as not to be included among the things to be accounted for in the final just judgment of God. It ought also to fill men with alarm, that all the aversion they feel to the Gospel, and law of God; to spiritual exercises; to the distinguishing graces and virtues of the truly Christian character; to the faithful rebukes and warnings which the Scriptures give; or to the holiness and purity which the Scriptures require-is positively an aversion to the things of portion as it enervates and destroys the animal frame; and the soul, retaining its consciousness to the last, seems to gather up its expiring strength for a final adieu. Such was the malady under which the orphan laboured. The charity of the world-that wretched and injurious thing called charity-commonly seeks to hide inevitable result of his disease. from the patient the danger of his situation, and the It puts a hypocritical smile upon the lips, to buoy up the sufferer with a delusive hope, and suggests various expedients for divert ing his attention from the "one thing needful," preparation for death, judgment, and eternity: and the poor dying man himself, gladly falling in with these deceitful illusions, persists in believing that his love of life will guarantee him from death, and employs what remains of reason in merely filling up the measure of his folly. It was not so with the orphan. She was the first to express her conviction, that all human remedies must prove ineffectual in checking a disease which had already laid both of her parents in the grave She did not shut her eyes upon the painful fact, that consumption was fast drinking up her life's blood, and hurrying her to the tomb; she clung to no treacherous hope of eluding the sword of this destroying angel, bu calmly and fearlessly looking death in the face, she diligently set about the completion of that great work of salvation which must be done "ere the night cometh in which no man can work." The disproportion between our affection and his is felt to be so great, that we seem to ourselves wholly destitute of the fruits of the Spirit. The reader will, perhaps, peruse with interest a few lines hastily written by the orphan in these moments of inward conflict :-"Dear friend," she says, for the very great kindness he has shown me. Methinks you also, like him, have a better opinion of me than I deserve, for I do not feel within me that spiritual life, that love to Christ, that entire dependence upon him, which I once experienced. Still, I think, I desire to go on, but my progress is so slow, my efforts so weak! and I stumble and fall so often! Oh how good, how patient is the Lord in his dealings with me! And yet I am so insensible to his kindness! This frail and fickle heart is ever wandering from him; and yet is not this consummate folly? for is not all the happiness which an immortal soul can desire to be found in him alone? Indeed, I feel that I can only be happy when living in close communion with him.” Some of the friends, I recollect, who attended her in her last illness, and who acted towards her as if she were a stranger to the promises of the Gospel, endea-"return my thanks to Mr voured to persuade her that "this sickness would not be unto death." At such intended consolation, the orphan smiled, but made no reply; for she feared to sadden those who looked upon death as "the king of terrors." But when conversing with her brethren and sisters in Christ, she unreservedly unbosomed to them her whole soul, her feelings and desires, her joys and sorrows, her hopes and fears. The prospect of her approaching departure gladdened and rejoiced her heart; and by an admirable effect of the hope which a true faith in the Redeemer inspires, it was not the dying person that stood in need of comfort, but rather the mourners who were gathered around her. On such occasions, the orphan addressed them in the language of Christian affection, pointing to heaven as the place where the redeemed of the Lord shall all meet again, and expressing the happiness which she felt at the thought of one day seeing us who now wept by her bed-side, among that " great multitude which no man can number: whilst, at the same time, the accents of her voice were so sweet, her hope so firm, and her exhortations so urgent, that our tears the tears of sadness and regret-were changed into tears of joy. A few days before her death, she was asked whether she would prefer to live or to die; she replied, that, if it were proper to give expression to her feelings, she would rather die. This answer may surprise some of my readers, yet I think it admits of an easy explanation. The orphan had long ago bid adieu to the world, and its manifold fascinations; she had thrown off the ties that bound her to life, without waiting for the hand of death to dissolve them, and the last link that yet bound her to earth-the connection of the soul with the body-appeared to her the weakest of them all. It is an invaluable secret to learn how to die; it consists in dying while we are yet in the full enjoyment of life, dying to the world and its vain and hollow pleasures, and in "setting our affections upon those things that are above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God." By the regenerated man, by him who is "born not of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God," death is hailed as a friend, that delivers him from "this body of sin," and introduces him to the realities of faith; or, as a distinguished father of the Church, Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, expresses it, "death does not end the Christian's life, it only ends his sins." God, however, whose thoughts are not as our thoughts, had yet in reserve for the orphan a season of darkness and despondency, through which she was destined to pass before entering the joy of her Lord. Did he design thereby to make her feel more deeply the privilege of quitting the world so soon, and to convince her, contrary to the representations of those who desired to be regarded as her well-wishers, that "for her to die was gain? Be this as it may, the orphan, taking the whole armour of God, made a courageous struggle against the enemies of her peace; she humbled herself in the dust before God, read his Word by day and by night, and ceaselessly prayed the Father of all mercies to have pity upon her troubled soul. She often said, that what afflicted her most was the weakness of her faith, and the coldness of her love, to that blessed Saviour, who had redeemed her by his blood. But in these very complaints we could trace, with joy, the evident signs of a living faith; for our hearts only admit their want of love to Christ, when they have discovered the immeasurable greatness of his love to us. In these sighings of a soul under the hidings of God's face, can we not discover a deep-rooted persuasion of the infinite compassion of Christ, and a firm belief that true happiness can only be realized in fellowship with him? The orphan seems to me to discover an intimate acquaintance with the spiritual life of the Christian in that very letter where she mourns her ignorance of it. Her language and conduct, in this respect, is the very reverse of that which distinguishes the mere outward members of the Church, those mere professors who "have a name to live, while they are dead." When the sufferings of the orphan were drawing to a close, I was called to her bed-side to administer the consolations of our most holy faith. She was now reduced to a state of extreme debility; in the hectic flush of her features I could read the characters of an inexorable disease that had now reached the last stage of its progress. Yet, contrary to the practice of most of the dying who solicit the spiritual instructions of a minister, not a word escaped her lips about her bodily sufferings, she spoke to me only of the sufferings and conflicts of her soul. I cannot relate the details of our conversation at this interview, nor of those which followed, because my memory, after the lapse of many months, retains only a confused recollection of them. One circumstance, however, struck me, which I cannot forget. After describing to me her spiritual state, she requested that I would take the Bible, and read in the seventh chapter of the Gospel according to Luke, from the thirty-sixth verse to the end of the chapter. In that passage it is recorded that a woman of sinful life anointed the Saviour's feet with ointment, in the house of one of the Pharisees, and having washed them with her tears, wiped them with the hairs of her head; that the Pharisee was offended at this, and that Jesus, in defence of the woman, delivered the parable of the two debtors, and finally said to her, Thy sins are forgiven." When I had read the passage, I asked the orphan if there was any thing here which she did not fully understand, offering to explain it to her as well as I could. "Oh," she replied, "I understand it perfectly, but I wished to hear it read, it is so tender and touching an exhibition of the love of Jesus! Speak to me of that love-of that infinite compassion of the Lord of grace for poor penitent sinners. It is the only thing that cheers and refreshes my heart!" And I, alas, poor comforter! who thought about an explanation of difficulties to the dying orphan, instead of a discourse, warm and living from the heart, upon the glorious promises of the Gospel, essayed to speak to her as I best could of that love which passeth knowledge, and whose mysterious depths even angels cannot fathom. Another particular I may mention whilst the recollection of it is still fresh in my mind. At every visit I made to her bed-side, the language of the orphan | I But the orphan's last day on earth had now arrived. was sent for towards evening, and immediately repaired to her bed-side. She was composed and resigned, her mental faculties were also still unimpaired. It was easy to see, however, that the sands of life were nearly run; she breathed with great difficulty; her hands were cold and clammy, and the livid paleness of death had settled upon her countenance. I remained by her side until the spirit deserted its shattered tabernacle. It was the night of the 6th May 1833, a night much to be remembered by all who were present. A deep and solemn silence pervaded the chamber of death. From time to time we knelt by the orphan's couch, and prayed our heavenly Father to relieve in mercy the poor sufferer from the burden of her body. The prayer done, I repeated to her some passages from Scripture, particularly those which contain the assurances of free and full salvation in Christ. "All who believe," I said, "are justified freely by grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." "It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ came to save even the chief of sinners." "He came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance,' and "whosoever cometh unto him, he will in no wise cast out." These precious promises of God's Word seemed to carry fresh life and joy to the heart of the dying girl. A sweet smile played upon her marble lips; the tear of gratitude glistened in her eye; the hopes that cheered her departing spirit might be read in sublime and glowing characters upon her brow, already darkened with the shadows of death; and at intervals we could catch the gentle whisper of her sinking voice, striving to pronounce the watch-word of the believing soul-Christ, none but Christ. Among other passages of Scripture, I recalled to her mind one which appeared to produce a strong impression upon her, it was the triumphant declaration of the royal Psalmist, "Though I walk through the dark valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me; thy rod and staff they comfort me!" In this way several hours passed away. But of a sudden the orphan seemed to regain her departed strength; she raised her head, clasped her hands together, and prayed in a slow and solemn voice. We fell upon our knees. Hush the orphan prays! her dying hymn, her last adieu is a prayer! She collects her remaining strength, the broken energies of soul and body, to bless, with her expiring voice, the God who created her, the God who redeemed her, the God who now summons her into his presence! Her thanksgivings first rise to God for having made known to her the Gospel of his grace,-for having brought her through much affliction into the kingdom of his dear Son; she blesses the Saviour for having condescended to look upon her in her great wretchedness, and for laying down his life for so unworthy a rebel. She humbly asks him to "come quickly" and take her home. She next prayed for the friends whom she was leaving behind; she had finished her course with joy, but her charity did not forget that others had still to wrestle and fight for the prize which she had obtained. She fervently prayed in behalf of a young sister, who was now about to become an orphan in a twofold sense, since, in addition to the loss of the mother who gave her being, she was now to be deprived of one who had ever since watched over her with maternal care and love. The future life of this young sister had of late given her much concern, not as regarded her temporal wants, for ample provision was made for her in that respect, but as regarded the welfare of her immortal soul. She had often spoken to her of her spiritual state, and pointed the way to heaven through the merits of Jesus Christ; she delighted in telling her of the wondrous love of God in saving sinners, and of the delight with which the Saviour welcomed little children to come unto him; she hoped that the good seed had not been sown in vain. But then, when she looked at the tender age of the child, and recollected that she was now to be left without a relation upon earth to watch over her in the slippery path of youth, she could not help feeling deeply for her situation, though she took comfort from that declaration of Almighty goodness, "Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive." The orphan prayed for her pastor; she implored the Most High to fill him with all spiritual blessings, and to multiply the fruits of his labour. O my God! if "the prayer of the righteous availeth much," has not the prayer of the dying believer a character still more sacred? Fulfil the desires of the orphan's heart in favour of thine unworthy servant, fulfil them, O Lord, for the love of Christ, and for the glory of thy name! In fine, the orphan prayed for the members of our little flock, for her neighbours who had so kindly attended her in her sickness, for her enemies, for all mankind. But as her fervent supplications thus ascended to the throne of mercy, she suddenly paused, her voice became inarticulate, and she struggled in vain to give utterance to the last strong feelings that filled her dying bosom. This was a moment of awful suspense to those of us who were gathered around her. At length the broken accents of her voice were again heard; Lord, Lord!" she exclaimed, "loosen my tongue, open my lips that I may bear testimony to thy Gospel, and to thy love! that my last breath may be exhaled in prayer!" 66 |