Sidebilder
PDF
ePub
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]
[ocr errors]

A Prayer.

LORD, o'ercome my stubborn will,
And let Thy will be done;

Give me Thy Spirit to fulfil

The work He has begun ;
Thy all-sufficient grace afford
To rest upon Thy promised word.

The ways that Thou wouldst have me go
Would I delight to tread,

And do Thou Jight the pathway so
I may be Spirit led.

Though rough the path, though strait the way,

That path I choose, that light obey.

My dearest hope, my greatest joy,

I would resign to Thee;

My heart would find its sweet employ

Where Thou wouldst have it be;

And I would work as Thou wouldst choose,

And as Thou wilt my talent use.

Be very gracious, for my heart

Is treacherous indeed,

And seeks from mortal man a part

Of help in time of need.

Of my affections jealous be,

And let me trust in none but Thee.

Whate'er apart from Thee I seek,
In mercy, Lord, refuse,

And keep me humble, holy, meek,

Or I shall soon abuse

The grace Thy goodness hath supplied,

To minister to worldly pride.

Oh, let me from all doubtings cease,

For Thou wilt faithful be,

And keep that man in perfect peace
Whose mind is stayed on Thee.
Believing on Thy gracious Son,
Thus will Thy work, O Lord, be done.

E. S. H.

A Thanksgiving for Deliverance.

H

ow shall I my thanks express

For Thy graciousness to me?

For thy truth and tenderness,
For Thy love so full and free?
For Thy condescending grace,

That did stoop to hear my prayer
And compassionate my case,
Sympathising with my care?

For deliverance from my foes,
For foreboding fears removed,
For relief from threatened woes,
For Thy faithfulness thus proved,
For the consolation sweet

Of the Spirit and Thy word,
How shall I thanksgiving meet
Render to Thee, gracious Lord?

Lord, I cannot render Thee

Aught that worthy Thee can prove ;

I to grace must debtor be

Even to confess Thy love.

But Thou knowest all my heart

Aught of love if there Thou see,

Own it, Lord-it is the part

Of the Spirit's work in me.

Though I cannot tell it, still
Let my thankfulness be shown
By obedience to Thy will,

By a spirit like Thine own;
By a pure, consistent walk,
Jesus, by me be confessed-
Thus, though feeble be my talk,
My thanksgiving be expressed.

E. S. IL.

[graphic][merged small]

The

T was a warm summer Sunday afternoon. little alehouse in the rustic village of Knowley's Mill turned out a motley assemblage of drinkers just before the commencement of the mission service. All sorts of profane, low, rough conversation went on at the alehouse during the few hours of the Sabbath in

which it was permitted by law to remain open; a circumstance which need create no wonder, seeing that the effects of the drink are one and the same whether it be imbibed on Sunday or any other day in the week. But the keeper of the alehouse, having respect to the terrors of the law as enforced by the policeman, and to the continuance of his licence, refused his grumbling customers more liquor, and turned them out to wander in the fields, play at pitch and toss, or attend the afternoon service, according as they listed, until he should reopen.

Within five minutes most of the party ejected went their several ways, so that, presently, only three men were left standing within the shadow of the alehouse, cross and irresolute. Two of them were men in the prime of life, the third was a youth about eighteen. Differing in age, they all had the stamp of vileness and gross sin upon their countenances. They, with a common consent, served the same master, and gloried in his service. Presently the youngest of the three spoke.

"What 'll we do wi' ourselves, Dick Kennedy? Shall we be off to Haggett's Coppice?"

"No, not if I know it, Bill. Last time I was there I got summoned for trespassing. Don't want to be pulled up again; that little game is too expensive for my pocket."

"Shall we go bathin' then ?"

"No, Bill Lowman. Dost thou think we're a parcel of boys?"

But the youngest speaker was an incorrigible talker. Turning to the other man, who had stood silent hitherto, he said,

66

'P'raps you'll tell us, Mark Taylor, what to do wi' ourselves ?"

"I'll tell ye, Bill; my wife is pretty nigh cracked over them mission services up at Farmer Peel's. Suppose we go there, and pick up all we can? It'll make fine fun for us to-night. We shall be able to mind most of it between us by-and-by, and won't we make the fellows roar? Eh?"

Mark Taylor was a man about forty, a drunken, wicked, cruel fellow-bad in his personal character and bad in his companionships. As for his wife's lot, it was one continual martyrdom.

The three profane and hardened sinners walked off together towards Farmer Peel's with the avowed purpose of listening to the Gospel to make a mock. Farmer Peel was a brawny, hard-fisted man, who generously opened his kitchen and extended his countenance to the evangelist at Knowley's Mill. The farmer would not much have minded knocking down any rough fellow who interfered with the comfort of the hearers or the quiet of the service; and as his arm was long and his temper fiery, though generous, Dick Kennedy, Bill Lowman, and Mark Taylor knew that they must at least behave with outward decency if they put in an appearance there.

The evangelist was a middle-aged, earnest, plain-speaking man. He had to deal with plain people, and he put his message into such a form that they should understand it. Sabbath after Sabbath he spoke words of truth and soberness to the villagers who assembled around him in Farmer Peel's kitchen. There was only this one mission service during the day at Knowley's Mill, for morning and evening the evangelist had to minister to other scattered village congregations; besides which, the village church stood open every Sunday morning, and neither Farmer Peel nor his evangelistic visitor wished to interfere with the religious services already ordained.

As I said, the three walked off together, and ere many minutes had elapsed they found themselves at the farmhouse. The little wicket gate stood invitingly open, and some two or three of the villagers were wending their way up the flagged path, bordered with old-fashioned flowers, towards the roomy, comfortable kitchen. Mark, Bill, and Dick proceeded in their wake, and presently found themselves inside. A few chairs set round the sides of the room, a couple of arm-chairs near the fire-side for the older

« ForrigeFortsett »