THE BELIEVER'S PEACE. II. 66 OCTOBER 26, 1839. THE Scriptures abound with many instances of the operation of the peace occasioned by the felt presence of God in individual cases. It was shewn by the three Israelites, when threatened by the king of Babylon that they should "be cast into a burning fiery furnace,' in case they refused to "fall down and worship the golden image that the king had set up." "The The language of their faith was-"We are not careful to answer thee in this matter; our God whom we serve is able, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king." David is an example of one in whose heart this peace ruled. Those that troubled him were increased. "Many are they," he says, "that rise up against me." But God is a "shield for him," the strength of his life." In this he is confident, and so he exultingly exclaims -"I will not be afraid for ten thousands of the people that have set themselves against me round about" (Ps. iii.). It appears from the 11th Psalm, that in some season of imminent peril, the friends of David advised him to fly, or to retire from the scene of danger; they describe his situation, and the probable effect of the exertions of his enemies. We here again trace the operation of the peace produced by confidence in God. "In the Lord put I my trust: if he be for me, who can be against me?" And he looks from the dark and tumultuous occurrences around him to that God who would maintain his cause, and would order all things for his good. "The Lord is in his holy temple: the Lord's seat is in heaven." We may see the peace which confidence in God inspires, in Psalm VOL. VII. NO. CXC. PRICE 1 d. lvi. 4-11. The Psalmist expresses his trust in God, and he immediately assures us that he will not fear what man could do unto him. And on another occasion of alarm, the same tranquillity of mind is beautifully evident; his peace arises from the same cause, namely, trust in God. And here we see that this peace cannot belong to any other but to those who are the children of God in sincerity and truth; for how can the wicked and ungodly call upon God as their "refuge and strength," as " a very present help in trouble?" Such language, adopt it as they may "in the time of wealth" and prosperity, can never be experimentally enjoyed by them "in the time of tribulation, in the hour of death, or in the day of judgment." It will then be seen, that the faith and confidence of professors, "having no root, will wither away." This, however, was not the case with the Psalmist; for it was "out of the depths that he cried unto" God: he realised the truth that God was his "refuge;" and this is the reason why he so confidently asserts, that "though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, and though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof, yet we will not fear: the Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge" (Ps. xlvi.). We have also another instance in the conduct of Joshua and Caleb (Num. xiv.). They must have been fully aware of the obstacles that lay in their road; they must have anticipated the opposition they would probably experience from the inhabitants of those lands through which they would pass,-a difficulty which must have been more apparent [London: Robson, Levey, and Franklyn, 46 St. Martin's Lane,] U when they contrasted the situation of their 66 From a review, then, of a few of the individual instances which the Scriptures exhibit of this peace, "which passeth all understanding," we may see the truth; and God grant that we may each experience, that "they that put their trust in the Lord shall be even as Mount Sion, which may not be removed, but standeth fast for ever" (Ps. cxxv. 1). Peace is enumerated among the fruits of the Spirit; it comes from God, and therefore we can never obtain it, unless we seek it in the appointed way, to which a promise of success is prefixed. The duty is, a firm reliance upon God; and the promise is, that he will be "kept in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on God, because he trusteth in him" (Is. xxvi. 3). The Psalmist tells us, that "great is the peace they have who love God's law;" for it is by searching the Scriptures that we become acquainted with our own history and condition, and with the character and attributes of Him, whom to know is life eternal. It is through the Bible alone, that we can obtain that "knowledge of God and of Jesus," which "multiplies peace." And while we behold the dismay of the ungodly in the day of visitation and desolation, not knowing what to "do," or to whom "to flee" for help, we may also see and take comfort from the position of the righteous. They too are represented as neglected, having no man that would know them-their refuge failing them, and having no man to care for their souls: but here we see the contrast; for the Christian feels the comfort of that "knowledge" by which he cries unto the Lord, and claims him as his "refuge," 66 The Christian knows his own weakness, and is conscious that he is not able even to "the exceeding think aright; and therefore, if he has been led in any measure to see sinfulness of sin;" if he feel in the least degree his infinite obligations to the Redeemer; if he possess the slightest portion of love and gratitude, he is convinced that it is of God, and he also knows that God does not give desire," without these feelings without intending to cherish them; he does not cause a a design to "fulfil" it; he does not create a hunger, without being willing also to satisfy it; he does not implant hopes, merely to dazzle or to tantalise; he does not set us to run a race, and hold a glorious prize to our view, and then mock us by not imparting strength and ability to run; he does not place us in the battle, and expect us to fight manfully, without providing armour and weaNo; the light he gives pons for our use. will "shine more and more;" the trees he plants "will bring forth more fruit in their a regular gradation age;" for as in creation was observed-God proceeding from the less noble to the more noble animals-from fishes to birds-from birds to beasts-from beasts to the master-piece of creation;" so also in the kingdom of grace, the Christian "will go from strength to strength;" the fruits of the Spirit will be gradually matured, and be more and more developed: the first appearance of life may be but "the blade," but "the ear" will soon shew itself, and "afterwards the full corn in the ear" (Mark iv. 20). And it will be found, that they who "go about to establish their own righteousness,' and to "build on other foundation than that is laid," will miserably fail in their object, if they suppose that their works and merits will peace at procure for them acceptance with God; or prove efficient in bringing them " the last." 66 66 If, however, God has, of his infinite mercy, given us peace; if "he has delivered our souls from the battle that was against us," and saved us from the hand of our enemies, let us, with David (Ps. lv. 19), always bear in mind, that "it is he;" therefore, "not ور unto us, not unto us, but unto God be the praise." Can any one, then, be surprised, that they that possess the carnal mind know not the way of peace? And is not the cause sufficiently shewn why the heart of the one is faint, so that "the sound of a shaken leaf shall chase them, that they shall flee and fall when none pursueth," even because "there is no fear of God before their eyes?" while "the righteous are bold as a lion," because God hath "given them strength and the blessing of peace?" May we become more and more convinced of the uncertainty of the happiness of earth, whose pleasures "wither even before they be grown up;" but which the world, nevertheless, would tempt us to embrace: "let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." But "the friendship of the world is enmity to God;" and we know that "there is no peace to the wicked.” May we, therefore, seek to obtain that "peace of God which passeth all understanding," and may we feel the power of it in every time of need. May we turn our eyes to "the Book" upon its eternal contents may we build our faith; for it will tend, with the blessing of the Holy Spirit, not only to our present, but also to our everlasting peace. And may God grant, that the truth of this blessed book may so inflame our love and gratitude, as to "constrain us to live no longer unto ourselves, but unto Him who died for us, and has reconciled us unto God by his blood." In the last place, let us remember, that if we "love God, we must see that we love our brother also." It is, indeed, "a good and pleasant thing to dwell together in unity;" to "be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love;" to esteem other better than ourselves;" to "be of one mind;" to "live in peace;" for then we may rest assured, on that "word" which "shall not pass away," that the God of love and peace will be ever with us. S. S. A CHILD OF LIGHT. BY THE AUTHOR OF " THE SMUGGLER," "THE OLD HALL," &c. "Eternal summer lights the heart Where Jesus deigns to shine." Rev. H. F. Lyte. IT was a thick foggy evening, in the month of November, when the curate of one of the overwhelming parishes in the outskirts of London received information from the visitor of a district-society, that in a certain alley there was a person dangerously ill, who would be glad to see him. The scene in which this excellent young man was now called to labour was widely different from that which he had recently left. His first cure had been that of a delightful village, in a northern county, where he was familiar with every face, and tolerably acquainted with every character. The death of the incumbent had, to the regret of his parishioners, caused his removal to another sphere of usefulness; and he had exchanged the fields and the woods of R——, in the North Riding of Yorkshire, with its picturesque scenery, and smoothly gliding stream, and rural cottages, for almost interminable rows of meanly built houses, in many of which misery dwelt, and, in not a few, vice in its most revolting forms. His was, in fact, a missionary station. He was called on to minister amongst heathens in a Christian land. Perhaps there is no situation in the Church more fearfully responsible, or more depressing at times to the spirits, than the cure of a large suburban popula tion. To the mere Sunday observer all appears carried on as a clergyman would wish. The well-conditioned and elegantly furnished church; the services conducted in the most solemn manner; an overflowing and attentive congregation; the thrilling peals of the organ,-all tend to foster the supposition that the situation of a town minister is most enviable. Alas, this is not always the case; and should these remarks meet the eye of any one who conceives himself to be buried, because his is the rustic congregation and his the village-church, and is pining, because, as he conceives, his talents are wasted, let him be assured that the situation of a country parochial minister, if he has with him the hearts of his people-and he will, generally speaking, have their hearts with him, if he preach fully and faithfully the great doctrines of the Gospel, and does not by his own conduct cause his sincerity to be questioned-is one of the most important and enviable in the Church. There is the homely bow, the respectful salutation, the kind greeting, which awaits the faithful minister as he walks along the path leading to the church-porch, which are infinitely more gratifying than the most splendid pomp of divine worship, or the flocking together of excited and too often captious hearers. With a very heavy heart, though fully desirous of fulfilling his office, and ministering to the comfort of the invalid, the curate found his way to the alley to which he was directed. Vice presented itself at the entrance on one side of which there was a gin-shop, on the other a pawnbroker's. Misery was apparent at every step; but at length he found the number to which he was directed, and he was informed that there was a man on the second floor of the name for which he inquired. He knew nothing of the character of the individual whom he was about to visit, and dark forebodings crossed his mind. The place was peculiarly lonely, in a certain sense. It was not that in which a man of common moral decency would wish to be found. He ascended the staircase, and entered into the sick man's chamber, where he found him sitting by the dying embers of a fire in a most emaciated state, attended by an old nurse. "Ah, sir, I am glad to see you," was the old man's salutation; "I think you are the clergyman. The visitor said that you should be informed how ill I was; and I thought you would come some fine day, but not on such a night as this. I thank you for your kindness." There was something in this address which much pleased the curate; an indescribable something about the whole appearance of the invalid which found its way to the young man's heart, who was relieved from his anxiety. "Are you in pain?" inquired the curate. "Not in much pain, thank the Lord," was the reply. "Are you in want of necessary comforts?" was the next question. "Not at all. I am liberally supplied by the visitor; and I have a few shillings yet by me, and two or three kind friends, who come to me and desire to supply my necessities." "No, I have "Have you applied to the parish?" not: I never would apply there; for I think it would be wrong while I have a trifle of my own. But what the visitor gives me and I told all my circumstances→ I do not think is to be regarded as parish-money. I was urged to accept it." It were well could such Parochial relief, views be more widely extended. it is notorious, is often claimed by those who ought not to be dependent on parish-bounty. A spirit of honest independence should be cherished among the lower ranks. It is unnecessary to enter into details as to the conversations (for they were several) which took place between the minister and the sick man: but the following sketch of the history of the latter, given on one of those occasions, may be interesting:-"I am a native of the county of Norfolk, and was apprenticed to a shoemaker by my parents, both pious people of the established Church, who set me a good example, and gave me the best advice. I came to London as a journeyman when my time (i. e. apprenticeship) was out, and got into good work. By degrees my religious principles were corrupted, and my solemn vows of dedication to God's service regarded as no longer binding vows, the sacredness of which had been strongly set forth to me by our old rector previous to a confirmation. The greater part of the Sunday morning I worked as hard as on other days, and after dinner used in the winter to go to a convivial club, as it was called, where the greater part of the week's earnings were spent; and by the dissipation of the night, I was unable to work on the Monday-sometimes even on the Tuesday. I was once carried to an hospital, having been found nearly dead in the street from drinking. In the summer we used to go by water to Greenwich or Richmond, and our expenses were quite as great. The French Revolution broke out about this period; and many of my companions, as well as myself, were greatly delighted with that work of blood. We thought we should be the great folks. We cast off religious obligations altogether. One of our number, after spitting on the Bible and trampling on it, cast it into the fire; and in a certain alley, leading from Fleet Street, we had a regular debating society on the Sunday evening, which lasted all night; but I cannot bring my tongue to utter what was then and there said. I often look back with horror to that awful period of my life, and think what must have been my eternal portion, had not God, in his long-suffering, spared me. "It was on my return from Richmond, on one of these Sabbath visits-sad, sad visits they were to me, and many poor souls have been lost by such-that, as I passed through the streets, a tremendous storm of was inconceivable, and for shelter I went into a on the occasion of the storm; and that he wished, Now here was, in a wretched neighbourhood, in one of the most depraved spots in the environs of the metropolis, surrounded by squalid wretchedness and unblushing vice, one who had been brought to a saving knowledge of divine truth -- who, amidst the almost heathen darkness which surrounded him, was walking as a child of light. He was happy. Could he be otherwise?-for the Comforter was with him. He was content; and he experienced that contentment with godliness is great gain. His heart was the seat of light; for the day-spring from on high had visited it; and the murky atmosphere with which he was surrounded could not affect the joyousness of his spirits. There were only two funerals at the parish buryingground (an extraordinary event) on the day on which the remains of the cobbler were consigned to the narrow house-that, at a somewhat early hour, of a leading man in the parish, but opposed to religion in all its vitality and saving power, and who, in a moment, by an apoplectic fit, had been summoned as he was dressing for a feast. The plumed hearse carried the remains; the pomp and pageantry of pretended woe was there. The chief mourner was the heir-mourner At the usual time, the could he be called?-and the domestics, the lawyer, and the medical attendant. shoemaker's remains were consigned to the grave,— the old nurse, and one or two poor neighbours, the sole attendants. The curate, as he registered the one tapha resolved to apply to the hermits who inhabit the caves and grottos of Mount Athos, and are in With this some degree dependent on the convent. intention, he entered the dismal habitation of an aged burial after the other, said nothing; but he has told me the text occurred to him, on which he preached the following Sunday "Hath not God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of the king- recluse, to whom he made known the circumstances dom?" THE TURKISH MARTYR. 2. ABOUT fifteen years ago there resided in the city of Smyrna two tanners; the one, named Mustapha, a native of the island of Mytilene, a Turk by birth and religion, but speaking the Greek language; the other, a Greek of Athens, and a Christian. The Turk, who was frequent in his visits to his neighbour's shop, was much struck with the manner of Californius, an openhearted boy of fourteen, whom he occasionally found reading. "What book is that?" one day inquired Mustapha. "My Ketab," replied the boy, meaning the holy Scriptures, which had been given him a short time before. The Turk requested Californius to read a portion to him. "Not so," replied the boy. "If," added he, with his usual simplicity, " you were a Christian, the case would indeed be different." The Turk rose and left the shop; but scarcely was he out of sight, before Demetrius, the elder Greek, fell upon his brother, upbraiding him for his inconsiderate answer. "What have you done?" exclaimed he; "how could you speak to the Turk of becoming a Christian? Do you not know that he can inform against us? We shall then be both sent to prison, our property will be seized, and perhaps even death may be the consequence of your rashness." The poor boy began to weep bitterly, for his brother's fears were but too well grounded; the tyrannical law of Turkey having made it a crime for a Christian even to speak of his religion to a Mohammedan, and to name his conversion a capital offence. In a few moments the Turk re-entered. He insisted on knowing the cause of his favourite's tears; and, on his brother's leaving the shop, Californius confessed the whole. "By all that is holy," said Mustapha, "I swear that I will not inform against you; only read to me a part of your Ketab." The boy complied, and the Turk listened with the most profound attention. From this time, Mustapha, watching from his window the departure of Demetrius, would repair to the young Christian for further information. Four months passed in this manner, during which the word of God found its way into the heart of the Turk, who resolved to abjure the false faith of Mohammedanism, and embrace the Christian religion. With this view, he disposed of his business, and repaired to a Greek priest at Smyrna, to whom he made known his desire to be baptised. But so rare and remarkable a circumstance is it for a Turk to embrace Christianity, that the priest looked upon the application as a snare to betray him to death, and earnestly besought the Turk to leave him. Mustapha applied to another, but was dismissed with the same entreaty," For God's sake, leave me." Distressed and mortified at this unexpected check, the mind of Mustapha almost sunk in despair. One resource alone remained, the monks of Mount Athos. To them he repaired; but though their body is numerous, they, every one, like the priests at Smyrna, refused to give ear to his entreaties. Knowing the jealousy with which the Turks eyed their order, they deemed it necessary to observe a greater degree of caution against any arts which might be practised upon them by the Mohammedans. Dismissed from the convent as a hypocrite, Mus • From the "Saturday Magazine." of his conversion, and the reception he had experienced from the Christian priests, to whom he had applied for baptism. The venerable old man was much affected; but, fearing to offend the monks, would not venture to perform the rite-perhaps, also, entertaining some doubt as to the Turk's sincerity. Again rebuffed, he bent his steps towards the brow of the mountain with a heavy heart. A young priest, who happened to be with the recluse, offered to conduct him through the wood, and employed every means of comforting him; but Mustapha refused to listen, and burst into an agony of tears. The priest's heart melted at the sight. My dear friend," said he, "have you then, in truth, a sincere 66 desire to become a Christian?" "Do not these tears shew you the fervency of my wishes?" exclaimed Mustapha. "Then follow me," said the priest; "here is a cave, which will afford you shelter; remain here, and I will daily bring you food, and converse with you on the nature of Christianity." Mustapha remained several months in this grotto; and the young priest daily brought him food, as well as spiritual comfort. In the meanwhile, the old hermit, who had been much struck with the fervour of the Turk's manner, not unfrequently reproached himself for sending him away with so much seeming indifference. He one day named his regret to the young priest, and exThe priest pressed a wish to see the Turk once more. smiled, and offered to conduct him to the place of his concealment. The meeting was one of mutual gratification; and Mustapha's admission into the Christian Church took place a few days after. He continued to reside with his friends on Mount Athos for several years; but his ardent spirit would not let him rest here. He had an aged mother and a brother at Mytilene, and his soul thirsted to bring them to the knowledge of the true faith. After duly considering the risk he might run, he left his peaceful and secure retreat, and took shipping for Cydonia. This flourishing city is chiefly inhabited by Greeks; at least, prior to the revolution there were but few Turks there, except such as held official situations. One of these, recognising the new convert by a scar on his forehead, ordered the vessel, which was on the point of putting off for Mytilene, to be seized, and the Turk to be brought before a magistrate. Without hesitation, Mustapha acknowledged himself a Christian, and declared his determination to die rather than renounce his faith. The magistrate commanded him to be taken to prison, and placed on the rack; but under the most agonising torments, Mustapha continued firm. This circumstance soon became known in the town, and caused a great sensation among the Christians. A Greek, named Georgius, who had an academy at the place, immediately assembled the scholars of his first class, consisting of youths of about twenty years of age, and related to them the melancholy fate of the Turk, and called upon them to offer up supplications in his behalf. "But it is not enough that we pray for him," continued Georgius; "we must also endeavour to visit him in prison, to comfort and console him. Which of you will adventure his life in this undertaking?" I, I," re-echoed from all sides; and a contest arose among the lads for the honour of this dangerous length claimed the preference-a countryman of his enterprise. John Skonzes, a young Athenian, at having been the first instrument, under Divine Providence, which led to the prisoner's conversion. To him, therefore, the others yielded; and the following |
