SUNDAY READING.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXVIII, Issue 8508, 7 March 1891, Page 4 (Supplement)

SUNDAY READING.

I HAVE GOOD NEWS FOR YOU.

[BY REV. W. HASLA3I, M.A.] Some years ago there lived in an old abbey house in the country a colonel and his wife. They had no family, but in the place of children they were surrounded with dogs and horses —occasionally with company staying at the house. These two lived as if there was no eternity, and as if the pleasures of the world were all that- they need care for. They were happy in their way, and appeared to have neither care nor anxiety of any kind to trouble them." God had provided them with abundance of everything, but they made no acknowledgment of His providence. They had no family prayer for the household, nor did they even give thanks at their table. Literally, God was not in their, thoughts at all. Certainly they went to their parish church on Sunday morning, if the weather was line enough, and came back as they went. It was well for them that there were occasional evangelistic services held in the Town Hall and other places. _ One day there was an announcement in the newspaper that Mr. B would give a Gospel address in the hall of a neighbouring town. The Colonel said, ,C I used to know that man once."

Yes," said his Lady, "so did I; I have anced with him very often. I should like to go and hear him preach." "So we will," said the Colonel. "Order the luncheon half an hour earlier to-morrow, and we will go." Away they went, and found the hall pretty well filled with country a3 well as town people. It was a somewhat novel kind of service, they thought, but very interesting, and the singing was hearty. The Colonel and his wife did not venture to renew the acquaintance of their old friend, but speedily returned home. Evidently they had heard enough, and so betook themselves to their carriage, and drove home in silence. _ When they met in the drawing-room before dinner, the Colonel said, " I have good news for you, my dear," and before he could finish his speech the wife a similar speech she had good news for her husband. "Henceforth I am the Lord's," said the Colonel. "So am I," added his wife " that address has quite decided me." It was so; these two worldly persons had a great deal to learn, but they had heard enough to decide them to give up the useless lives they had been leading. That evening the time after dinner was spent in a novel manner for them —it was in reading together the New Testament. " What chapter was it that Mr. B recommended us to look over?" asked the Colonel, " Was it not the third of St. John £ Let us turn to that." " Yes," answered his wife; "and he told us to read the concluding verses of the preceding chapter as well." They read these portions of Scripture, which might as well have been in Greek for all these benighted people understood. They were as far oil' as ever. The wife, however, drew her husband's attention to the third verse, " Except a man be born again, he cannot see the Kingdom of God." "Observe," she said, " there are three things here— again, see, and the Kingdom of God." " Well, yes," said the Colonel, looking anxious; "but what are they? What is it to be born again?" " Why," answered his wife, " I used to be taught that being born again was being baptised/' "Yes," was the Colonel's reply; "I have heard that, too, and I have been baptised, but Ido not see anything yet. What is this Kingdom of God? It is hard lines to be shut out of Heaven for not being born again. What in the world is it?" Being unable to help one another, they at last gave it up in despair, and shut up the Book. Presently they began to talk of the people who were at the meeting in the afternoon. " How they listened, did they not ?" " Happy thought," suddenly exclaimed the Colonel, striking his knee with his hand. " I will send over for Dick, the blacksmith ; lie knows about this new birth." The thought had scarcely come to his mind before the Colonel had despatched his servant in search of the man in question. He soon returned, bringing the blacksmith with him. The man was ushered into their presence at once. " Now, Dick," said the Colonel, looking at him, " are you born again ?" " Yes, bless the Lord," replied the blacksmith, " that I am, sure enough." "What is it?" inquired the Colonel, eagerly. " Well," answered the man, "I be glad to hear you ask about this ; but how can I tell yer what it is? It's the new birth, yer know, that's what it is; and a very blessed thing it is to have yer sins all pardoned, and yer soul saved ! That's what it is." " Hew did you get to know about this ?" asked the lady. " Why, ma'am, I'll tell yer. It was through Mr. Haslam preaching in the barn yonder that opened my blind eyes. He told me I was a-going to hell, and I saw it plain enough. So I cried to the Lord to have mercy on my soul, and He just did it; yer know, that's how it was. I tell ye what," he continued, " Mr. Haslam is a-coming tomorrow evening to preach; now, do yer come and hear the gentleman." After a little further conversation the Colonel dismissed the blacksmith, and he and his wife determined to go to the barn meeting the next evening. Not knowing anything that had passed, I came to the appointed service, ana was led to dwell upon the necessity of the new birth. I remarked: "As we cannot see natural things without a natural birth into this world, in like manner we cannot see spiritual things without a spiritual birth. At this new birth we are endowed with spiritual faculties, without which we are not fit for God's presence, either here or hereafter." The Colonel and his , wife had made arrangements that I was to sleep at the abbey that night. Accordingly they brought me home with them, and we sat lon 0 into the night talking about spiritual things. They told me all that had passed the day before. It was easy to discern how the Lord had already laid hold of these two, and made them willing. Their eyes were opened to see their danger, and now all that they needed was to be brought from the darkness of ignorance into the light of salvation, from the power and devices of Satan to God, to receive forgiveness of their sins. We went to prayer, and after I had prayed , the Colonel spoke out his mind and burden in earnest supplication; and with many tears his wife did the same. What had Ito say now, but to assure them that all was done and finished by Christ upon the cross " Have we nothing to do inquired the Colonel. - ■' . ( " No," I said, " you have nothing to do for your salvation but to accept it. It is God's ■■ ■ . ■ :str ■ ■

gift to you for ChrfctWfc*. v. work as hard as vn„ Vi k;e but yon _ go After this it was a jov to . , ° &f new-born souls hungeriiL *n ee these two know more of the Word of O thlrs ting to fttyrf their questions 1 . Th of their devotion was most chr! earne stn es , came straight from the world to and helped each other groatlv • , , eir Bible* the Word, and they were not kli,- V tud y of testimony to their worldly fiends ' U tileir

GOD AS a home. [by dr. maclap.es-. ] Thou .last made the Most Hi ,i,,, . there shall no evil befall thee,r na ' J!^Uo n . plague come near thy dwelling." lliltr sll all la j Did you ever notice that ther* dwelling-places spoken of in are twc Thou hast made the Most HiM ,v , ver se' tion;" " there shall no nil, , h th >' habiu! dwelling." The reference of t h ?& % to the former one is even more iiuf .*<*4 observe that, literally translate a S " - Vo! > Revised Version it means a purtir,^', - the of abode—namely, a tent <" ar kind made the Most High thv habitation" ' iai * same word is employed "in the S'p Tn '- " Lord, Thou hast be.® our dwelling) 1:n : all generations." Beside that vSfr" 1 ancient abode, that has stood fr«h e and incorruptible and unaffected by the'lf r ° D? ' millemums, there stands the li4u 1 . S6 °t canvas tent in which our earthh- Sltor ? spent. We have two dwelliJ", J es ara the body we are brought ft" 1 "? lCfcs - % with tnis frail, evanescent, ill u^' nectlo world, and we try to make our Cll out shitting cloud-wrack, and dream tha?^ 01 ' compel mutability to become ;i e , ta » that we may dwell secure. But f " !U r strong for us, and. although we *45 u t0 will make our nest in the rocks • ,' at : Ws never be moved, the home that ii'VitVi'i 11 linked with the material ~as"„ n ?, bl f and a cloud. We need a better dw e fi; melt ? as than earth and that which holds ; ', e We have God Himself for ourl ? arth - Never mind what becomes of the t ie " long as the mansion stands n>- m n! t-t > ,80 us be saddened, though we know thai ■ canvas, and that the walls will soon r V ! j must be some day folded up and bom* and if we have the Rock of Ages Cours-ing-place. ° ° r our '^-veilLet us abide in the Eternal God V- tt, a yotion of our hearts, by the alliance r f faith, by the submission of our will { °- Ur aspiration of our yearnings, by conf.rrXi' ■ our conduct to His will. Let us abide ;' n 0t Eternal God that, " when the earthl- iV. ne of this tabernacle is dissolved" we enter into two buildings "eternal in m v 7 heavens"— one the spiritual body ~-hb! knows no corruption, and the other "i bosom of the Eternal God Himself "V cause thou hast made Him thy habiting that dwelling shall suffer no evil t? ° ' near it or its tenant. Ie Still further, notice the scope of this promise. I suppose there is some referent in the form of it to the old storv of Israel' exemption from the Egyptian piques ami! hint that that might be taken as a lVaNa and prophetic picture of what will L r ,,,„ about every man who puts his trust in 0 .l But the wide scope and paradoxical com pleteness of the promise itself instead rf being a difficulty, point the way to" in true interpretation. "There shall" no come nigh thy dwelling'—and vet we are smitten down by all the woes th»t -.fiiior humanity. "No evil shall befall thee- 1 ' an,l yet all the lib that flesh is heir to" are dealt out sometimes with a more liberal hand to them that dwell in God than to them that abide only in the tent upon earth What then? Is God true,-- or is He not' Did this Psalmist mean to promise the very questionable blessing of escape from all the good of the discipline of sorrow ? Is it tru° in the unconditional sense in which it is often asserted, that " prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament, and adversity "of the New?" I think not, and lam sure that this Psalmist when he said, " There shall no evil befall thee, nor any plague come nidi thy dwelling," was thinking exactly the same thing which Paul had in his mind when li» said, All things work together for good to them that love God, to them that are called according to His purpose." If I make God my Refuge I shall get something a great deal better than escape from outward sorrownamely, an amulet which will turn the outward sorrow into joy. The bitter water will still be given me to drink, but it will be filtered water, out of which God will strain all the poison, though He leaves plenty of the bitterness in it; for bitterness is a tonic. The evil that is in the evil will be taken out of it, in the measure in .which we make God our Refuge, and "all will be right which seems most wrong" when we recognise it to be " His sweet will." Dear brother, the secret of exemption from every evil lies in no peculiar Providence, ordering in some special manner our outward circumstances, but in the submission of our wills to that which the good hand of the Lord our God sends us for our good; and in cleaving close to Him as our Refuge. Nothing can be "evil" which knits me more closely to God; and whatever tempest drives me to His breast, though all the four winds of the heavens strove on the surface of the sea, will be better for me than calm weather that lets me stray farther away from Him. We shall know that some day. Let us be sure of it now, and know it by our earthly experience, even as we shall know it when we get up yonder, and " see all the way by which the Lord our God has led us."

TO WHOM SHALL WE GO? "To whom shall we go ?" That is the first question that presents itself when a man awakes to moral consciousness, and feels those inarticulate longings which reveal that he is not as he ought to be. The heathen philosopher Plato attempted to account for these spiritual yearnings by regarding them as the result of reminiscences of a former state of existence, in which the soul had seen the Eerfect ideas of things which are now someow lost, and we, with the Bible in our hands, can see how near that was to the Scripture doctrine of the Full. The soul is not what it once was, and what it was tiesigned to be. From the very grandeur of it 3 ruius man has learned that it was made to be a glorious temple for Jehovah's abode, but, alas! he has learned also, by many painful failures, that he cannot of himself reconstruct that spiritual edifice. Like the strain of some sweet song, which one cannot himself recall, but which lives so in the memory _ that he can at once recognise it when it is sung by another ; like a name one is sure he knows, but cannot with all his ingenuity recollect, though he can say what it is not, and can identify it the moment it is pronounced by other lips—so is the lost ideal of the human soul to the heart that is striving after its attainment. The soul is not what it once was. Its constant cry is, "Who will restore my true self to me? Nay, more, it recognises that forgotten greatness when it sees it again. It is not to be imposed upon by any deceit. It can sa.y, and it does say, when one specimen is offered, " That is not what I seekand when another is presented, "That is not) what 1 needbut when it fnds Christ it identifies its long-lost manhood in Him, and exclaims, " Now I have found myself. Rejoice with me, for I have recovered the piece which was lost." The schoolboy with his dissected map fits fragment to fragment until at length there is - but one vacant space left, and he searches everywhere for that which is to fill it. He cannot make it himself, but when it is brought to him he knows it is the right one, because it fits into every crook and corner of the empty place, and you cannot get him to take another. So the soul recognises Christ, because He meets its need, fills in its outline, satisfies its longings, and translates into the language of definite conception those vague and shadowy aspirations which formerly could not formulate themselves into speech.Rev. W. M. Taylor, D-D.

THE LAST EVE OF SUMMER. Summer's last sun, nigh unto setting, shines Through yon columnar pines; And on the deepening shadows of the lawn Its golden lines are drawn. Dreaming of long gone summer days like this, Feeling the wind's soft kiss. Grateful and glad that failing ear and sight Have still their old delight, I sit alone and watch the warm sweet day Lapse tenderly away; And, wistful, with a feeling of forecast, I ask, " Is this the last ? " Will nevermore for me the seasons run Their round, and will the sun Of ardent summers! yet to come forget For me to rise and set V Thou shouldst be here, or I should be with thefl Wherever thou ruayst be, _ , Lips mute, hands elapsed, in silence of speech Each answering unto each. At this still hour which hints of mystery far Beyond the evening star, No' words outworn suffice from lip or scroll; The soul would fain with soul Wait, while these few, swift-passing days fulfil The wise, disposing Will; And, in the evening as at morning, trust j The All-Merciful and Just. i The solemn joy that soul-communion feels Immortal life reveals; . And human love, its prophecy and sign, Interprets love divine. Come then, in thought, if that alone may be, O friend ! and !>ring with thee Thy calm assurance of transcendent spheres, And the eternal years. John Greenleaf Vk hither.