W THE CROWN OF THORNS AND THORNY CROWNS. HILE there is but one Crown of | thorns,' there are many thorny crowns. That crown, which, platted by cruel hands, pierced the brow of the ever blessed Christ, became a diadem of glory for His followers; every poisoned point thereon budding with hope, and expanding into a flower immortal. We look back to Calvary, and behold the bowed head, the wounded hands, the pierced side; and know that by these He bore our griefs and carried our sorrows; that there the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, that there He bore our iniquities; and yet, with strange ingratitude, we too often turn away from our one 'sacrifice,' and, Papist like, afflict our souls for these very sins and sorrows. We place a thorny crown upon our own temples, and then lament its weight and pain! Why will not the ransomed believe the dying words of Jesus- It is finished;' and, leaving all their woes at the foot of the cross, go about His work joyfully, rather than in a spirit of bondage? Thorns and thistles must grow, 'for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.' They are part of the curse which man's sin brought upon the earth in the morning of creation. But it makes a great difference how we deal with them. He who sows them as a crop, nurtures their growth, allows them to scatter their seeds, and then harvests them in his barn, will surely have a larger share of the curse, than he who plucks up by the root each noxious intruder as soon as it appears on the soil. And thus, too, is it with the thorns which pierce the heart and brow; cherish them, brood over them, water them with tears, and they will spread until their name is 'legion,' overrunning and crushing out all the sweet flowers with which a loving hand has graced our life paths. But nip them in the bud, when possible, and turn their points away when not, and still the flowers will bloom among and above them. One gentlewoman we well remember, who, although the daughter of a king, almost denied her royal birth. With her own hands she placed upon her head a crown of sharpest thorns, instead of the diadem it was her right To other eyes, only blossoms lay in her path, and she was looked upon as one of the blessed;' but O, that unseen crown! It pressed heavily and pierced cruelly the pale, fair, matronly brow, and left its impress there. to wear. 6 And what think you were these thorns, which so robbed this Christian woman of peace and joy? They were what in other crowns are gems:-her love of Zion, her children, and her riches! Because she loved so much she suffered an overweening care to mar her happiness. The Church of her love was dear as the apple of her eye; and she could not but weep and tremble, when she saw it encompassed by foes, and entered, perchance, by traitors. She looked upon the children God had given her, and whom she had striven to lay trustingly on His altar, and shrank from the dangers which lay before them. They were in a world of sin and temptation; how could she trust them out of her sight? How die, and leave them motherless? God had given her wealth, and she desired to consecrate it to Him, and with it to bless the needy. But her Bible assured her that 'riches take to themselves wings; therefore she was ever anxious lest her family might come to want, or that she might some day be unable with her bounty to make the widow's heart to sing for joy, or to send the word of life to the benighted. Thus did imaginary cares turn the sweetness of life into gall, and injure the Christian influence of a truly pious woman. So conscientious was our poor friend, and so dear was the cause of Christ to her heart, that no treasures on earth could have tempted her to deny her Lord, nor yet to say that she doubted for one moment His faithfulness. And yet the worldly looked on her care-lined brow, heard her deep sighs, and said, 'Here is one whose life is that of a true Christian; and yet religion has no power to make her happy, even in prosperity!' And thus was Jesus wounded in the house of His friends. Among all the fears of this mournful soul, the greatest was sin; and yet there was one sin against which she forgot to watch,—the crime of worrying and of doubting. We are commanded to Be careful for nothing;' and told that 'He also who receiveth the seed among thorns is he that heareth the word, and the care of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and he becometh unfruitful.' How plaintive the rebuke of Jesus to the anxious sister of Bethany: 'Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things; but one thing is needful.' How tenderly does Jesus show His unceasing interest in His children! 'Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings? and not one of them is forgotten before God. But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered; fear not, therefore; ye are of more value than many sparrows.' 'Consider the ravens; for they neither sow nor reap; which neither have storehouse nor barn; and God feedeth them. How much more are ye better than they! Consider the lilies, how they grow; they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you that Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these. If God so clothe the grass, which is to-day in the field, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little faith!' Had this fearful soul, of whom we write, looked more on the condition of others, her thorns might have budded into flowers. She must have seen the brightness of her own spiritual lot, even though Zion were not always robed in light—when she looked on Christians deprived of Gospel privileges, who dwell like the pelican of the wilderness and the owl of the desert;' who 'watch, and are as a sparrow alone upon the house top.' She might have folded her young sons joyfully to her bosom, when she beheld that mother clothed in weeds, whom God had written childless;' or heard another's wail of anguish over a ruined son. She must have cast away her borrowed fears of poverty for the beloved, when she looked upon that woman who, not knowing where to seek the morrow's bread for her fatherless little ones, gathers them around her, saying fervently, Give us this day our daily bread.' 6 Ah, this is the way to dispel the vision of imaginary thorns, and to take the points from real ones! And what has all this anxiety availed our friend? The Church over whose fancied desolation she wept, has ever been watched over by that Eye which grows never dim, and has long ago put on her beautiful garments, and become a praise in all the region. The beautiful sons, for whose future so many tears were shed, are all three safe in heaven! Our beloved ones may have to struggle long with sin and sorrow, but hers-never! The blessing of the Lord, which maketh rich, and addeth no sorrow with it,' rests still upon her basket and her store; and from her pitiful heart the poor are still supplied. And thus all her tears and sighs and sorrows were without cause. She deprived herself of much pleasure, and pierced her brow with many a thorn of her own pointing; and also wounded, by arousing distrust of His power, the Saviour she loved; and, not till grey hairs encircled her brow, did she learn to leave her cares where Jesus nailed them, and to put on her crown of rejoicing. To-day, a widow, aged and childless, but trusting, hopeful, and reconciled, she is happier than when in vigour she leaned on a strong arm, with her children about her. Is it not madness thus to throw away joy, and take instead a heritage of mourning? ANCIENT TELEGRAPHING. THE Communication of intelligence by the electric telegraph, now come into use at the East, recalls an interesting circumstance of ancient history. Compare it with the mode employed lately in sending news to Constantinople from Ephesus, that the railway was completed to the latter place from Smyrna. The ancient message was despatched over the same route. shore by Berytus and Tripoli, and Laodicea of Syria, and the strange story was dropped from the line at Antioch, then the most lordly and magnificent city in the world. It crossed the battle plain of Issus; it blazed along the Tarsus. It crossed the hills above Philadelphia, it leaped the mountain passes about Colosse, it lit with starlike radiance the waters of the Archipelago as it went from hill to hill by Thyatira and Pergamos, and over Ida, many fountained Ida,' and the plains of Troy. From the summit of 'When Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great, was prosecuting her pious researches in Jerusalem, she caused a series of towers to be built along the sea-coast from Tyre to Con-high Olympus (Olympus in Asia) the inhabistantinople, and when she had effected what tants of the new city of Constantine saw the she and the Christians of the fourth century flash of the expected message, and their shouts regarded as her great discovery, the uncovering and hymns of thanksgiving in the mid-streets of the beams of wood in the pit near Calvary, answered the enthusiastic rejoicings of the which she believed, for some reason which we people in Jerusalem.' The towers of Helena may well doubt, to be the wood of the cross of stand in mournful ruin all along the route of Christ, she "telegraphed" the account of the that despatch. It would not be surprising if discovery to her son in Byzantium. A fire the wires of Morse's invention are some time blazing on the hill of Acra sent the intelligence affixed to the walls of those very towers. There to the hill at Ramah, the city of Samuel, and would be singular fitness in this, and the mind thence it flew to the hill of Samaria, where the would be irresistibly directed by the coincidence city of Omri was then splendid in its Roman to the message which Professor Morse himself decorations. They saw it from far-off Carmel, caused to be the first sent over the first wire and lit their fires to tell the news to those who established (that between Baltimore and Washwatched on the spur of Lebanon that goes downington), giving to God the glory of the grand to the sea of Tyre, and so it flashed along the achievement of modern times. THE DEW. If clouds are necessary to produce rain, sunshine is an essential to the formation of dew. A dewy morning only follows a day whose sun has well warmed up the earth. It is necessary that the heat should readily radiate into the surrounding atmosphere by night. When the surface of the earth thus cools down more rapidly than the incumbent air about it, and when the air is saturated with moisture, then, by the contact of temperatures, the air becomes unable to retain its moisture, and yields its sprays and vapours to be shaped by a natural law, the same which rounded the world out of chaos and orbed the universe; and then what was invisible | becomes visible in drops of settling dew. So, whenever dew is seen to fall, there must first have been a flowing down of sunshine in the day, and then a responsive current of warmth uprising in the night toward the region whence it came. The earth receives and yet returns the heat the heavens gave, and as if to reward S | such gratitude, the dew descends to refresh and gladden its beseeching and thankful breast. So, when people's hearts are hard, and dry, and desolate, it may be because they lack responsiveness to heaven's gifts-for want of gratitude for the light and privilege which have shone upon them all their days. Teachers, if they would see their classes bright and happy, and parents, if they would have glowing summer in their homes, and have young hearts themselves, should be open-souled and thankful, and teach the children how to be grateful for daily blessings. Then would sun-warmth from the better world be taken in through the gauze of form, and task, and habit, and fashion; then, because each heart would be flower instead of flint, grass instead of granite, fruit instead of fossil; then would the pearly dew-drops of glory glitter all over a school and all through a family, like an immortal morning. -Rev. A. Clark. BUYING SALVATION. A TRUE DREAM. IKE many 'good moral living people,' as they are called, who have a form of godliness, but are denying its power, I vainly imagined that God 'sold' salvation. In order to make God my debtor I became a Sabbath school teacher-a regular attendant at religious meetings, both during the week and on the Sabbath. I went further, I joined the Church, in order to make a more respectable character. I was thus religiously despising Christ, when, in the riches of His grace, God by His Holy Spirit, awakened me. 6 Conviction entered my soul at a prayermeeting. A meeting of the Sabbath-School Teacher's Union.' Mr a superintendent of one of the schools, while praying, pleaded that the Lord might be merciful to any teacher who professed to be leading others to Christ, whereas it might be they themselves knew nothing of the power and preciousness of His blood for the removal of sin. These words came home to me with power. My conscience plainly condemned me; and like a flash of lightning these words entered my soul. By the works of the law shall no flesh be justified.' For some time after I was in great soul trouble. I tried to banish the disquieting thoughts, but the very efforts seemed only to make them appear to me more vivid. Words fail me fully to describe the condition in which I felt myself. In my extremity I cast myself before the Lord, pleading that He would set me in the right way of finding peace.' He heard my cry, and was pleased to enlighten me by means of the following dream. In my dream I resolved to set out on a journey, my object being to go to my father, whom I knew to be dead. The knowledge that he was dead did not interfere with my resolution. At break of day I began my journey on a very rough road, such as I had never before travelled on. This road led through a dreary wilderness, how dreary! no living thing to be seen on all its waste. After travelling nearly all day I came in sight of a beautiful country, a perfect contrast to the wilderness I was travelling through. It was a beautiful green plain studded here and there with plantations, which appeared to be enclosed. There was a river dividing the two countries at which I arrived. From its still appearance I judged it to be deep. Looking along the river, I observed that the side on which I stood was very wild, being composed of rugged rocks, which at some parts overhung the river. The other bank of the river was a beautiful green embankment. Having looked at the river and its sides, I thought of the bridge; and I gazed first in one direction, and then in another, but could see no bridge. I set off a considerable distance alongside of the river in search of a bridge, but could find none. By this time the day was far spent, and darkness beginning to set in. This was a cause of great perplexity to me, for I was a stranger in the place, and there was no one to tell how to get across. A further search which I made, also proved fruitless. I had almost despaired of getting across. As a last resource I resolved to leap across, and went in search of the narrowest part of the river, but each place I came to seemed more difficult than another. This quenched my last hope. For I was convinced that if I did make the attempt, it would be a failure, and if I failed, falling in the river would be death. I knew not what to do. To lie out all night,—perhaps to perish; thoughts like these added very much to my distress. Overwhelmed, I sat down and wept. While in this position I looked to the other side and saw two men coming towards me. They had white garments on, and were walking on the opposite bank of the river. They walked slowly, and their bearing was very solemn. 6 At sight of them I was greatly cheered, but my grief had so prostrated me, that when they came opposite I could not tell them my circumstances. However, one of them addressed me, saying, in a slow solemn manner, Friend, what troubles thee?' Whereupon the other, who was with him, immediately vanished out of my sight. In reply to his question I said, 'I had come a long journey and was anxious to get across the river; that I was much troubled, for I could find no bridge by which to get across, and as the day was now far spent, I was afraid of perishing in the night.' Continuing to address him, I said, 'I will feel glad if you will show me the bridge, that I may cross the river.' He asked, 'Have you come here to cross in your own strength? I replied, 'I had not thought of anything else." He. 'Are you anxious and really desirous of being across?' I. I must be across. O do show me the bridge?' He. I am the Bridge.' I wondered at his words, and asked How did you get across?' He replied. 'I have travelled the same road you have travelled, and have crossed this river through many sorrows and difficulties. I can sympathise with others who have to travel the same journey. Now I wait by the river side to take others across who may be anxious to come.' He continued, 'Do you believe I am able to take you across?' I replied, I cannot doubt of your ability from what you have said to me.' When I had given this answer, he immediately stepped down on the water, and walked across as if on dry land, and came up the face of the rock on which I stood, as if on an easy path. When he was nearing the top I got down on my knees, and stretched out my hand, to render him assistance in coming up. Noticing my action, he said, 'I require no assistance, for I am well acquainted with the road, and perfectly able to accomplish the most difficult part.' Coming alongside of me he took me in his arms, walked across the river, and set me safely on the other side. Desiring to express my thanks for his goodness, I said, 'I am very grateful to you, and if ever you come my way, you must come and stay with me.' He said in reply, 'My presence shall go with you;' bidding me also 'God speed' on my journey. I went on with a very light heart, and was singing with joy. The darkness which perplexed me on the other side of the river seemed gone the sun shining brighter than it had done all day before. But I had not proceeded far, when my attention was arrested by three wild looking animals coming from one of the plantations towards me. One of them was much larger than either of the other two. On nearing me they began to cry out very loudly, and seemed as if ready to devour me. The largest beast (in appearance like a boar, and with great flashing tusks) was coming right on towards me, the other two staying behind. I became greatly affrighted, for I felt how very unable I was to defend myself from the beast should he attack me. Turning round, I cried to the Friend who had taken me across the river, telling him of my danger and imploring his help. He came to me and gave me a weapon, a strange looking weapon (it was about 32 inches long and shaped like a cross), saying, Go forward with that and fight your own battles.' He stood by me. When I received the weapon and heard his words, new strength seemed imparted to me. I had now a desire to fight with the beast, the former fears having left me. I then met the beast. He stood before me, and opening his jaws (as if at once to devour me), sprang at me. I dealt him a blow with the cross, which drove him back. Immediately he resumed his attack, by making another spring at me, which I repelled by another blow with my weapon. He repeated his attacks several times, but was kept off by blows from the weapon. Thus baffled, he became very fierce, and began to roar loudly. He now tried to seize me in various cunning ways, but did not manage it. The fight had lasted for some time, when I found the strength of my arm beginning to fail. Anew I called to my Friend. O sir, won't you help me, my strength is giving way, and this beast will destroy me?' He answered, I will pray for you;' and he began to pray. Immediately I felt my strength renewed, and my blows began to tell on the beast. He seemed to be getting much weaker, and was making his attacks on me less frequent. At his last attack I dealt him a heavy blow which knocked out one of his eyes. Following this advantage up, I dealt him another heavy blow, which made him fall as dead at my feet. On seeing this, my Friend clapped his hands, shoutingVictory! Victory! Looking at me, he said The battle is over, go in peace.' Anew I pursued my journey, singing loudly. The scene of the fight was not left far behind when I saw my father coming to meet me. He too was singing. We were mutually advancing, and about to salute each other when I awoke, and found it was a dream. The dream often recurred to my thoughts the day following, and while thinking on it, I thought I saw something in it which suited my condition. I saw I had been trying to cross the bridge of salvation in my own strength, instead of looking to 'Jesus only,' as being able to take me across. I began to think of 'salvation through Christ,' and could see enough in His precious atonement for me. But I could not feel sure that I was accepted, because I had not enough comfortable 'frames and feelings' to assure me. A Christian friend who knew my condition, and this special difficulty, gave me an appropriate tract. After reading it, I at once saw my error. I wanted to feel instead of to know. Years have gone past since the dream. Kept by the power of God,' I have since been resting under the sweet sense of a Father's forgiveness, my only plea being the blood of Jesus Christ. TELL THE GOOD NEWS. IT is the duty of every one who knows the good news of salvation through Christ to tell the good news, as he has opportunity and ability, to his companion who does not know it, that he too may be saved. It is the duty of every Christian who can, to tell the good news to a Sabbathschool class of children, or of young men, or of adults, or to a meeting for prayer and conference, or to any other appropriate meeting, where it will promote the glory of God and the good of men, and to exhort men to come to Jesus. These duties are done daily by earnest, working Christians. They are done in accordance with the divine injunction, 'Let him that heareth say, Come.' They are done in accordance with New Testament usage. When the persecution arose | 6 about Stephen, the members of the Church at Jerusalem were all scattered abroad except the apostles, and they that were scattered abroad went every where preaching the Word,' telling the good news. They laboured as evangelists wherever they came, without any official obligation or any express authority. They were moved by the inward power of that faith which cannot but speak of the truth of which the heart is full; they were influenced by the Spirit, with whom they had been anointed; they were controlled by their love of the Saviour, to whom they owed the remission of their sins and all their blessed hopes. They held no office, but were invested with the general priesthood of believers.'-A Pastor. |