66 THE LIBERTY OF MARRIAGE. 117 truly say," referring to such as went back, "their loss has been more to me than if my own children had been carried to the grave." Was the burden of the apostle's preaching "Christ crucified ?” "I have been" says Bunyan, "in my preaching, especially when I have been on the doctrine of life by Christ without works, as if an angel of God stood at my back to encourage me." Did the apostles say, we are troubled on every side, yet not distressed-perplexed but not in despair-persecuted but not forsaken-cast down but not destroyed.' Such to the letter was his experience. Without were fightings, within were fears. Often he met with rude interruptions in his itinerant labours-sometimes from the clergy, rarely from the populace-sometimes from the Quakers of that day, rarely from the profane. If his early essays at preaching were at all like his riper manifestations, we need not wonder either at his popularity, or his power; nor at Dr. Owen's remark to royalty, that he would gladly surrender his learning for the Tinker's preaching abilities. He was both Boanarges and a Barnabas. Some of his terrible passages must have awed, while some of his tender descriptions must have melted his audience. He deserved to be the most popular preacher of his day. O! that we, upon whom a gracious God has conferred the high honour of preaching among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of his grace, possessed more of the tender compassion-profound piety-ardent attachment to the Gospel-devotion to the cause of Christ which distinguished this honoured servant of God. Brethren pray for us, that our minds may be proof against the subtle soul blighting influence of religious error.-Pray for us, that with the clear bright eye of faith we may ever discern truths, which like the stars of the firmament shine serene and beautifulthat like the bird of day, we may ever purge our vision at the fount of heavenly radiance.-Pray for us, that our administrations may be clouds of blessing, "that whatever ray we cast upon the fringes of the clouds, the body and substance may be charged with the concentrated vapours of the spring, tremulous to the impulse of every breeze, and impatient to pour the vital shower upon the earth."-Pray for us, that " our life may flow from its mysterious urn a sacred stream, in whose calm depth the beautiful and pure alone are mirrored." In a word, pray that we may be the counterpart morally of our hero, the fac-simile of his own beautiful portrait. "It had eyes lifted up to heaven, the best of books in its hand, the law of truth was written upon its lips, the world was behind its back, it stood as if it pleaded with men, and a crown of glory did hang over its head. Such are the men to turn the world upside down." THE LIBERTY OF MARRIAGE. "She is at liberty to be married to whom she will, only in the Lord.”—1 Cor. vii. 39. "MARRIAGE is honourable in all;" but the Christian should marry, may marry, only in the Lord. This is the law of Jesus Christ. He is our Master, how shall we dare to break his commands? If you marry in the Lord, you secure the counsel and guidance of your Heavenly Father. If in any thing whatever you need wise advice, surely it is when you select the partner of your life. Your happiness depends upon your 118 choice. THE LIBERTY OF MARRIAGE. Mark the promises of God which are suitable to your case. "In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct thy path." "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not, and it shall be given him." How sweet to feel that in your choice you are guided by God, and in your union are blessed with his approbation! What a comfort in any trouble that may arise, to feel, this is the Lord's dealing; He will deliver me. But how could you ask God to bless you in marrying an unbeliever,―to bless you in breaking His law? Surely even an impious man would not venture to offer such a prayer! How painful to know, even on your wedding-day, that Jesus turns from you wounded and displeased! And whatever trials may overtake you in after life, you cannot ask your Saviour to pity You violated His law,—you must expect trouble; it is the fruit of your Your comfort is destroyed. you. sin. If you marry an unbeliever, you slight Christ your Saviour. If you are, indeed, a Christian, God is your best friend, and Christ the object of your supreme regard. You love him with all your heart and strength, for he loved you, and gave himself for you. How, then, can you love one averse from or indifferent to your Saviour? How can you press to your heart one that loves not your God? If Jesus could say to his friends, "He that receiveth you receiveth me," would he not also say, he that loveth my despisers and neglecters cannot love me. If you marry an unbeliever, there can be no christian sympathy between you. True, you will feel one with each other in the things of this life, but not in the things that make for your eternal peace. You will blend your joys, and divide your sorrows, that rise from this world; but in relation to the world that is infinitely more important than this, you will not have a single feeling in common. Your mind may be darkened by clouds of doubt, but you cannot tell him of your fears. You may rejoice in the Lord, but you cannot tell your partner of your gladness. He lives for this world, you live for Christ. His portion is in this life, your inheritance is in heaven. You love to speak of that Saviour who bought you with his blood, and with whom you will dwell in heaven, but your husband will not listen. "What communion hath light with darkness? And what concord hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath he that believeṭh with an unbeliever ?" An unbeliever cannot comfort you in trial and sickness. He may perform every kind office with fondest attention, and hang over you with a bleeding heart, but these are not all you will need in that hour. You will ask for an affectionate prayer, and words of sweet consolation. From no one would these spiritual aids be so comforting, as from him who is dearest to your heart. But, alas, he cannot pray! He has no God upon whom to call for even you; and the precious promises of the Bible, even if he were to whisper them for your solace, would freeze upon his lips. Your last hour draws nigh. No hope of meeting him in heaven supports you, as your lips quiver the last farewell. Your last moments are disturbed by the thought, "We part for ever." You wing your way to bliss, but you leave him. Think of the difficulty, if God should bless you with children. How will you train them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, when the head of the house gives no weight to your pious example, and the father cannot pray with his child? And, think, if you should be called home, your children will be left without any one to train them up in the way they should go, and having no one to care for their souls, they may perish in sin. THE BLIND SLAVE IN THE MINES. 119 If you neglect the command of Christ to marry" only in the Lord," you will greatly injure your own soul. "Be not deceived, evil communications corrupt good manners." Companionship with the ungodly, under any circumstances, taints the feelings and weakens the spirituality of the mind; but when you constantly associate with unbelievers, and love them too, as is the case in the conjugal state, the effect must be doubly mischievous. We so rapidly assimilate to those whom we love, that we soon change from the beauty and lustre of piety to dulness and deformity. Solomon, the wisest of men, became a gross idolator through the influence of wicked wives. Thousands who once "walked with God," have departed from the way of holiness, where the sunshine of God's favour fills every heart with joy, and have wandered in darkness and perplexity, and died in doubt, through the influence of an ungodly partner. Rely upon it, the path of obedience is the path of peace. "Lord who shall abide in thy tabernacle? Who shall dwell in thy holy hill? He in whose eyes a vile person is contemned; but he honoureth them that fear the Lord." THE BLIND SLAVE IN THE MINES. THE following incident was related by President Hitchcock, in a sermon preached in the College chapel, (Amherst, Mass.) after his return from Virginia, on 'The moral dignity of the christian character.' "Allow me," says President Hitchcock, "here to refer to a case that lately fell under my observation, which illustrates more forcibly than I had ever concieved, the priceless value of the christian hope to the most unfortunate and degraded. I had descended a thousand feet beneath the earth's surface, in the coal pits of the Mid-Lothian mines in Virginia, and was wandering through their dark subterranean passages, when the voice of music at a little distance broke upon my ear. It ceased upon our approach, and I caught only the concluding sentiment of the hymn, "I shall be in heaven in the morning." "On advancing with our lamps, we found the passage closed by a door, in order to give a different direction to the currents of air for the purpose of ventilation; yet this door must be opened occasionally, to let the rail cars pass, loaded with coal. And to accomplish this, we found sitting at that door, an aged blind slave, whose eyes had been entirely destroyed by a blast of gunpowder, many years before, in that mine. There he sat on a seat cut in the coal, from sunrise to sunset, day after day; his sole business being to open and shut the door, when he heard the rail cars approaching. We requested him to sing again the hymn whose last line we had heard. It was, indeed, lame in expression, and in the poetic measure, very defective; being, in fact, one of those productions which we found the pious slaves were in the habit of singing, in part, at least, impromptu. But each stanza closed with the sentiment,— "I shall be in heaven in the morning." "It was sung with a clear and pleasant voice; and I could see the shrivelled sightless eye-balls of the old man rolling in their sockets, as if his soul felt the 120 TRUE FRIENDS OF CHRIST. inspiring sentiments; and, really, the exhibition was one of the most affecting that I have ever witnessed. There he stood, an old man, whose earthly hopes, even at the best, must be very faint; and he was a slave-and he was blindwhat could he hope for on earth? He was buried too, a thousand feet beneath the solid rocks. In the expressive language of Jonah, 'he had gone down to the bottom of the mountains; the earth with her bars was about him for ever.' There, from month to month, he sat in total darkness. Oh, how utterly cheerless his condition! And yet, that one blessed hope, a resurrection morning, was enough to infuse peace and joy into his soul. I had often listened to touching music; I had heard gigantic intellects pour forth enchanting eloquence; but never did music or eloquence exert such an overpowering influence upon my feelings, as did this scene. Never before did I feel the mighty power of christian hope. Never before did I witness so grand an exhibition of sublimity. Oh, how comparatively insignificant did earth's mightiest warriors and statesmen, her princes and emperors, and even her philosophers, without piety, appear. How powerless would all their pomp, and pageantry, and wisdom be, to sustain them, if called to change places with this poor slave! He had a principle within him superior to them all; and when the morning which he longs for shall come, how infinitely better than theirs, will his lot appear to an admiring universe. that morning will ere long break in upon thy darkness, benighted old man! The light of the natural sun, and the face of this fair world will never, indeed, revisit you; and the remnant of your days must be spent in your monotonous task, by the side of the wicket gate, deep in the caverns of the earth. But that bright and blessed hope of a resurrection morning shall not deceive you. The Saviour, in whom you trust, shall manifest himself to you, even in your deep darkness; and, at the appointed hour, the chains of slavery shall drop off, and the double night that envelopes you, shall vanish into the light, and the liberty, and the glory of heaven. And just in proportion to the depths of your darkness and degradation now, shall be the brightness and the joy of that everlasting day! And "I would add, that on enquiry of the pious slaves engaged in these mines, I found that the blind old man had a fair reputation for piety, and that it was not till the loss of his eyes that he was led to accept of a Saviour. It may be that the destruction of his natural vision was the necessary means of opening the eye of faith within his soul. And though we should shudder at the thought of exchanging conditions with him on earth, yet who can say, that his peculiar and deep tribulation here, may not prepare his soul for a distinction in glory which we might well covet? Oh, how much better to endure even his dark degradation and privations, sustained by his hopes, than to partake of their fortune, who live in luxury or pleasure, or riot in wealth, or lord it over prostrate millions, or have Fame's trumpet sounding before them wherever they go, if with their good things here, we must have their portion in eternity! How very probable that as they lift up their eyes hereafter in hell, being in torments, they may see this poor slave in Abraham's bosom, and entreat that he may be sent with a drop of water to cool their parched tongues." Characteristics of the True Friends of Christ.—They visit him—they value him they vindicate him-they welcome him-they wait for him-they walk with him-lay all their concerns at his feet-love all his friends, and long for his second appearance in glory. |