And what must it be to spend a whole eternity with the lost in hell! what a solemn duty a minister has to perform whose office it is to save men from this misery! Oh, if we could but feel in health what we do in sickness, how much more earnest and resolute should we be to save men from death! Your duty is especially momentous and solemn. You have not only to minister yourself, but to prepare others to minister. You know that I do not want the students to be made scholars so much as "(here his strength failed him)—" able ministers of Jesus Christ," I suggested. "Yes," he continued, "and, in this sense, to pluck men from everlasting burnings. You know I don't undervalue learning, and there are schools of philosophy, and the like, for them; but I wish them, first of all, to be men who can save souls from hell. And, oh, if I am permitted to look down from heaven, and see you and them engaged in this work, and if I am allowed to know that men are saved by their instrumentality, what additional joy will this give to me! I shall feel that I also have some part and lot in the matter. Be faithful, my dear friend, and God bless you!" After a short respite, he resumed :-"If I had to live over again, I think how differently I would live; how much more I would do to save men and glorify Christ. And yet, perhaps, I deceive myself." "Yes," I replied, "in seasons of affliction we look at the past in the light of the future. Our shortcomings and sins assume their true magnitude. We are away from the temptations which have led us astray, and, not at the time calculating their force, we think how much better we would do were the time that is gone to be given us again. But the review does us good, if only in this, that it places our sins more distinctly before us, and constrains us to throw ourselves upon the Infinite Mercy." "Yes," he instantly added, "the Infinite Mercy! Oh, how delightful it is to repose in that! To know that God loves us, what a comfort in affliction!" "Well, that is your experience, is it not?" I remarked. "You know that God loves you?" "Not wholly as I would like," he replied. "I am so very unworthy. Yet I do, in a good degree, and desire to do more." Here his strength utterly failed, and I left him, feeling, however, so much the importance of his sayings -a feeling deepened by the solemn and earnest tones in which they were made that I could not, and indeed did not, desire to dismiss them from my thoughts, and in the evening of the day committed them to writing for my own subsequent profit. The "perfect peace," which two days before his death he spoke of, continued to the last. Though his bodily suffering seemed now and then great, there was no inward disturbance; much composure, rather— a mind deeply engaged, yet serene in its meditations. And now the silence of the chamber became, if possible, deeper; the tread, lighter; the look more observant and more anxious. Death was already there; had been for some time; but now he was felt as a presence-welcomed by one, feared by all else. The end so long desired, looked for as one that watcheth for the morning, came rapidly on. Days had run out; hours only remained; and these coursed along, first in darkness, then in light, bringing redemption nearer and nearer. The last words were spoken. Earth swam away. Loved ones faded from the view. Time was melting into eternity. The eye was turned upward--heavenward; there it remained for hours, nor ever came earthward again. The soul was looking through it, with more than the power of sense, far away into the regions of celestial blessedness, and continued to look until the rapt vision was exchanged for everlasting possession. The transition was too gentle to be observed, too calm and holy not to be felt. "So fades a summer cloud away, So sinks the gale when storms are o'er, So dies a wave along the shore." It was Saturday evening when he died; the following Sabbath he spent in heaven. Sheffield, July, 1860. J. STACEY. Essays, fc., on Theology and General Literature. THE DELUGE EVIDENCES OF THE EVENT. In old dusky time a deluge came; When the deep-cleft disparting orb, that arched And o'er the high-piled hills of fractured earth THOMSON. THE Deluge has left its impress on all nations. Though four thousand years have passed away, its evidence is still clear and indelible. God intended that mighty thundering of his wrath should reverberate through all nations, and its echoes be heard through all ages, down to the end of time, when another still more terrible display of his displeasure against sin shall be seen, in a conflagrated world, and the eternal doom of sinful man. Go where we will, the traces of the Deluge meet us in some form. It is admitted, indeed, that the geological evidences formerly adduced in proof of a general deluge, have been resigned; but resigned only to render more important service in natural theology. If the science of geology does not employ the phenomena of fossil remains in proof of the catastrophe recorded in the seventh chapter of Genesis, it transfers them to the more stupendous work recorded in the first chapter of that book, in proof of other great truths which lie deeper in the foundations of religion-the existence of God, and the creation of the universe by the fiat of his word. Downward, as we descend through the piled-up ruins of departed ages, the successive acts of a creating God are traced, until we come to that primeval period which antecedes the birth of time, and carries us into the profound abyss of that eternity which God alone inhabiteth. The contributions of geological science in support of the fundamental principles of theology have, indeed, been marvellous within the present century. They are still accumulating, and shall continue to augment, illustrating God's word by his works; strengthening our faith, while extending the range of our vision. "Science," says Dr. M'Cosh, "has a foundation, and so has religion. Let them unite their foundations, and the basis will be broader, and they will be compartments of one great fabric reared to the glory of God. Let the one be the outer, and the other the inner court. In the one let all look, and admire, and adore; and in the other, let those who have faith kneel, and pray, and praise. Let the one be the sanctuary where human learning may present its richest incense as an offering to God; and the other, the holiest of all, separated from it by a veil now rent in twain, and in which, on a bloodsprinkled mercy-seat, we pour out the love of a reconciled heart, and hear the oracles of the living God." We do not consider that geology has yet finished its work in relation to the Deluge. Where are the relics of the ancient world— the footsteps of those long-lived patriarchs who occupied the earth from the creation of Adam to the abode of Noah within the ark? Those men were active, inventive, and enterprising; men of genius and renown, and, therefore, men of great deeds, both good and bad; they made themselves known and felt in the world, and their names have come down to our times. Have all their works utterly and eternally perished? Though the frail texture of the human frame may have become totally decomposed and obliterated within the lapse of four thousand years, yet are there no relics of man's early skill and power? no ruined cities, or fallen monuments, or works of art in the more durable metals or minerals, to attest his existence and doings in that distant age? We believe there are; and that the future may yet reveal them is by no means improbable. The excavations of Nineveh have brought to light monuments which carry us down to the hoary period verging on the latter days of Noah; and future researches may astonish mankind by bringing to light the relics of the antediluvian world, and visible demonstration of that great catastrophe in which it was destroyed. It was Providence which hermetically sealed the ruins of Nineveh and Babylon for more than a thousand years, until the time came when their discovery could best confront the boasts of infidelity; and it may be the same wise purpose which conceals the entombed monuments of a world destroyed, until their discovery can most effectually shame the scoffers at revelation, and advance the triumphs of religious truth. Meanwhile we turn to the collateral evidences of the Deluge, as they exist in the fragmentary records and traditions of ancient and modern times. If these were all collected they would form a volume of no mean dimensions, and though poetry and superstition have often given a grotesque form and a fabulous colouring to some of the circumstances of the great event, its main features are seen through the dusky haze; and the coincidences maintained, amid all the distance of ages and the variety of nations, point unmistakably to one common origin. If we begin with the traditions of the most ancient surviving nations in the pagan world, we must undoubtedly introduce China, whose acknowledged antiquity carries us back to a period coeval with the Jewish patriarchs; and we have the event of the Deluge blended with their early history of Linim. Sir William Jones, perhaps the most learned and accomplished man of his age (such at least was the estimate of Johnson), and the first who fairly opened up the great storehouse of Eastern antiquities, describes the tradition of the Deluge as prevalent in the vast Chinese empire, with its three hundred millions of people. He states that it was there believed that, just ere the appearance of Fohi in the mountains, a mighty flood, which first "flowed abundantly, and then subsided, covered for a time the whole earth, and separated the higher from the lower age of mankind." The Hindu tradition, as related by Sir William, though disfigured by strange additions, is still more explicit. An evil demon having purloined the sacred books from Brahma, the whole race of men became corrupt except the seven Nishis, and in especial the holy Satyavrata, the prince of a maritime region, who, when one day bathing in a river, was visited by the god Vishnu, in the shape of a fish, and thus addressed by him :-" In seven days all creatures who have offended me shall be destroyed by a deluge; but thou shalt be secured in a capacious vessel, miraculously formed. Take, therefore, all kinds of medicinal herbs and esculent grain for food, and, together with the seven holy men, your respective wives, and pairs of all animals, enter the ark without fear: then shalt thou know God face to face, and all thy questions shall be answered." The god then disappeared; and after seven days, during which Satyavrata had conformed in all respects to the instructions given him, the ocean began to overflow the coasts, and the earth to be flooded by constant rains, when a large vessel was seen coming floating shorewards on the rising waters; into which the Prince and the seven virtuous Nishis entered, with their wives, all laden with plants and grain, and accompanied by the animals. During the Deluge Vishnu preserved the ark by again taking the form of a fish, and tying it fast to himself; and when the waters had subsided, he communicated the contents of the sacred books to the holy Satyavrata, after first slaying the demon who had stolen them. It is added, however, that the good man having, on one occasion long after, by "the act of destiny," drunk mead, he became senseless, and lay asleep naked, and that Charma, one of three sons who had been born to him, finding him in that sad state, called on his two brothers to witness the shame of their father, and said to them, What has now befallen? In what state is this our sire? But by the two brothers-more dutiful than Charma-he was hidden with clothes, and recalled to his senses; and, having recovered his intellect, and perfectly knowing what had passed, he cursed Charma, saying, "Thou shalt be a servant of servants." It would be difficult certainly to produce a more curious legend, or one more strikingly illustrative of the mixture of truth and fable which must ever be looked for in that tradition which some are content to accept even in religion as a trustworthy guide. Berosus, a Chaldean historian, lived about 200 years before the Christian era, and this writer, as quoted by Josephus, records the tradition prevalent in his nation respecting the Deluge. Speaking of this event, he describes the antediluvians as giants who were exceedingly impious and depraved. "But there was one," he says, "that reverenced the gods, and was more wise and prudent than all the rest. His name was Noa; he dwelt in Syria with his three sons, Sem, Japet, Chem, and their wives, the great Tidea, Pandora, Noela, and Noegla. This man, fearing the destruction which he foresaw from the stars would come to pass, began, in the seventy-eighth year before the inundation, to build a ship covered like an ark. Seventy-eight years from the time he began to build this ship, the ocean of a sudden broke out, and all the inland seas and the rivers and fountains bursting from beneath (attended by the most violent rains from heaven for many days), overflowed all the mountains; so that the whole human race was buried in the waters, except Noa and his family, who were saved by means of the ship, which, being lifted up by the waters, rested at last upon the top of the Gendyae, or mountain, on which, it is reported, there now remaineth some part, and that men take away the bitumen from it, and make use of it by way of charm or expiation, to avoid evil." A more general Assyrian tradition, somewhat different in its details, also survives.* The god Chronus, it was said, appeared in a vision to Xisuthrus, the tenth king of Babylon; and, warning him that on a certain day there would be a great flood upon the earth, by which mankind would be destroyed, he enjoined him to build a vessel, and to bring into it his friends and relatives, with everything necessary to sustain life, and all the various animals, birds, and quadrupeds. In obedience to the command, the king built a vessel about three quarters of a mile in length and half a mile in breadth, which he loaded with stores and the different kinds of animals; and into which, on the day of the flood, he himself entered, accompanied by his wife and children, and all his friends. The flood broke out. After, however, accomplishing its work of destruction, it abated; and the king sent out birds from the vessel, which, at first finding no food or place of rest, returned to him; but which, when, after the lapse of some days, he sent them forth again, came back to him with their feet tinged with mud. On the third trial they returned no more; upon which, judging that the surface of the earth was laid dry, he made an opening in the vessel, and, looking forth, found it stranded on a mountain of the land of Armenia. In ancient Greece we find the memorials of several floods, which are supposed by learned men to be but the several representations of the one great event, altered in its details by poetic license and mythologic fiction. Lucian (in his work "De Dea Syria") says the present world "is peopled from the sons of Deucalion. In respect to the former brood, they were men of violence, and lawless in their dealings; they regarded not oaths, nor observed the rites of hospitality, nor showed mercy to those who sued for it. On this account they were doomed to destruction; and for this purpose there was a mighty eruption of water from the earth, attended with heavy showers from above, so that the rivers swelled and the sea overflowed, till the whole earth was covered with a flood, and all flesh drowned. Deucalion alone was preserved, to people the world. This mercy was shown him on account of his justice and piety. His preservation was effected in this manner: He put all his family, both his sons and their wives, into a vast ark which he had provided, and he then went into it himself. At the same time, animals of every species-boars, horses, lions, serpents-whatever lived upon the face of the earth-followed him by pairs; all which he received into the ark, and experienced no evil from them." Such is *See Cory's "Ancient Fragments." |