Ladies of opulence or of leisure should reflect further, that in paying an occasional visit to the dwellings of poverty and suffering, they are not only likely to discover many cases of silent, un.o.btrusive wretchedness, which but for their personal inquiries and researches might sink into the grave without the smallest relief, while clamorous wo sometimes gains the ear of the most thoughtless pa.s.senger, but they become the means of imparting a twofold blessing. In addition to what they give, the sense of their sympathy enhances the favour, and it is received with double pleasure. Man is possessed of a social principle, which operates with peculiar energy in cases of affliction. As a consciousness of neglect excites disgust and resentment, so a conviction of being the object of solicitude and sympathy produces the most grateful emotions. It may, therefore be safely a.s.serted, that a donation to the poor, when _personally_ bestowed by the donor, is, in consequence of the effect produced on the _mind_ of the sufferer, of incalculably greater importance and use than the same or even a superior sum contributed by the cold agency of some unfeeling distributor. Besides, a charitable soul has a perpetual feast. Who can remain an unaffected spectator of the tearful eye--the speaking look--the thankful smile? The very silence which an overwhelming sense of kindness imposes, is more delightful to a benevolent spirit than dainties to the taste or music to the ear.
In dispensing charity, many valuable acquisitions may be gained. It is, in fact, a profitable service; and he makes an excellent exchange indeed, who, while bestowing money or goods to a.s.sist the poor, obtains substantial instruction. Here then, in the meanest hovel, in the most shattered and weather-beaten shed, amidst cries of distress and sights of sorrow, the wisest may gain knowledge. What a lesson of grat.i.tude is taught in every scene and circ.u.mstance! Who maketh thee to differ from another in point of temporal possession, mental superiority, or religious distinction? What hast thou, that thou hast not _received_? That humble cottager is human, like thyself! That nest of callowness and weakness contains the same species with thyself, on whom Providence has bestowed wings to soar to heights of prosperity and enjoyment. Thou art descended from the same common Father, and art heir of the same common dust! Thy life is no less precarious, if it be less wretched, than that which animates a meaner clay, and breathes in a less decorated exterior! If the one be porcelain, and the other earthen ware, both are brittle! "G.o.d hath made of one blood all nations of men." Sometimes a cottage furnishes an impressive lesson respecting the _independence of happiness upon external circ.u.mstances_. It teaches the salutary truth, that it is in the power of religion to impart substantial felicity in every condition, to communicate exalted enjoyment, to form an enn.o.bled character in the meanest habitation, and to inspire the sublime sentiment of the poet:
"Give what thou wilt, _without_ thee I am poor, And _with_ thee rich, take what thou wilt away."
COWPER.
Poverty has been the lot of the most distinguished of the human species; and if ever the vanity of riches, and the incurable emptiness of temporal splendour are felt, surely it must be when visiting the dwellings of the _pious_ poor. No riches can inspire their songs of praise, or purchase a t.i.tle to their immortal inheritance. No rank or dignity can attract the eyes of those holy spirits that hover round the spot to which affliction has confined an outcast Lazarus, or kindle such rapturous sensations and holy congratulations, as they manifest at the repentance of a sinner.
Piety hallows the dwelling which it inhabits, and felicitates as well as sanctifies the heart, the family, and the city which it pervades. In the primitive ages of Christianity, the disciples of our Lord could see the rapacious oppressor seize the last portion of their worldly goods, and "take it joyfully;" they could "most gladly glory in their infirmities, that the power of Christ might rest upon them;" they could hail the martyr"s stake, while they antic.i.p.ated the martyr"s crown; and, in the days of Paul and Silas, if there were a spot on earth where celestial joy took up her residence, it was, at least for one happy night, in the very dungeon of persecution.
To return to Dorcas. Her character is so described, as to imply that hers were _free_, and often _unsolicited charities_. She did not indolently wait for applications, or contrive a thousand delays, while misery was pining into the grave; but, like her Divine Master, "_went about_ doing good." She penetrated the obscurest retreats, not waiting to be pressed and urged to afford a trifling relief; but her benevolence resembled the course of the sun, which pours its beneficent radiance upon the earth with undistinguishing liberality. It ought not to be forgotten, that sometimes minds of the most delicate const.i.tution are involved in all the miseries of poverty, and placed in a situation of all others the most painful, that of persons reduced from former competency and comfort. The privations of life are far more sensibly felt by those who have once known plenteousness. To them the wind of adversity blows with tenfold keenness, and the crust of want seems peculiarly unpalatable. They are reluctant, not to say "ashamed, to beg." The blushes of an instinctive sensibility suffuse their countenances, and pet.i.tions for a.s.sistance falter on their tongues. They have to contend not only with the afflictions of poverty, but with all the timidity which a consciousness of degradation superinduces. In many cases of this description, persons of eminent worth have been found, who could not overcome their scruples, till absolute want forced them abroad to suffer the rebuffs of an unfeeling world, or to gain the scanty pittance which mere importunity extorted from reluctant opulence. Dorcas is celebrated for having particularly selected such a cla.s.s of sufferers. She had sought out the _widows_, who had lost their dearest relatives, by whose daily and cheerful labours they were perhaps enabled to live in decent sufficiency, or by whose sympathizing tenderness they were at least consoled amidst inevitable sorrows. The weakness of their s.e.x, or the infirmities of their advanced age, prevented their contending with the storms of life; and, no doubt, many of them surrounded by a numerous family, at the decease of the beloved of their hearts, were left to struggle with acc.u.mulated difficulties.
Women on whom Providence has bestowed a sufficiency, might here find ample means of usefulness among persons of their own s.e.x. A helping hand might rescue many a widow from the deep waters of overwhelming grief: a trifling sum would in many cases prove an inestimable boon; and a very small expense of time and trouble might produce the most valuable results. A well-constructed system of benevolence resembles a fine adjustment of mechanism: by a gentle force or a moderate supply, judiciously applied, the whole machinery is kept in motion, and the greatest burdens are removed.
This leads us to remark another characteristic feature in the charity of Dorcas. It was _wise_ and _prudential_. She had a _plan_ which was not only unexceptionable, but singularly excellent and worthy of imitation.
This consisted in furnishing the poor with substantial a.s.sistance, and providing for the proper application of her aid to their real and most pressing necessities. She made "coats and garments" for widows. It is to be feared, that the good intentions of persons charitably disposed are often frustrated by the improper manner in which they render a.s.sistance to the poor. They fulfil the impulse of a benevolent spirit by sending or giving their money, leaving the mode of its expenditure to their own judgment. But it is notorious, that such as are in reduced circ.u.mstances, and who feel the particular pressure of the moment which they are most anxious to relieve, have very little sense of the real value of money and of the propriety of providing against the difficulties of futurity. They take the cordial to-day, draining out every drop, forgetting that the phial will be empty to-morrow. In consequence of this extreme improvidence and inconsideration, the pecuniary help they receive frequently does little good, and fails of all the purposes which a pious charity intended.
The depravity of mankind, which must be expected to operate in the poor as well as in the rich, is another occasion of the misuse of benevolent aid. The friendly supply is consumed upon their l.u.s.ts. Abandoned in character and selfish in principle, many heads of poor families addict themselves to bad company, despoiling their families of their earnings and of charitable supplies, and stupifying their consciences in the cup of intoxication. The discovery of such a misapplication ought not to extinguish the feeling of sympathy, but rather excite it afresh; both because the individuals themselves are to be doubly pitied for their dest.i.tution of moral feeling and want of religion, as well as of necessary subsistence, and because their outraged families demand renewed attention.
It ought also to render liberal persons particularly watchful of the use which is made of their benefactions. It should not shut the heart, but regulate the course of feeling. The sin of others does not exempt us from the duty of contributing to the alleviation of their miseries, though it ought to induce us to study the best expedients for counteracting it. It is in fact quite as requisite that we should see to the application of what is given as to give, in all cases where this is possible or convenient. Dorcas appears to have adopted the useful plan of expending the money which she appropriated to the poor widows, _for them_; partly because she was probably better able to judge of the most useful mode of a.s.sisting them, and partly because the very same sum would prove doubly efficient in consequence of the savings which would acrue from working with her own hands.
The pretences by which men excuse themselves from giving to the poor are stated, and satisfactorily answered, by Dr. Paley, [43] in the following words: "1. "That they have nothing to spare," _i.e._ nothing for which they have not provided some other use: nothing which their plan or expense, together with the savings they have resolved to lay by, will not exhaust: never reflecting whether it be in their _power_, or that it is their _duty_, to retrench their expenses, and contract their plan, "that they may give to them that need: or rather that this ought to have been part of their plan originally.
"2. "That they have families of their own, and that charity begins at home." The extent of this plea will be considered when we come to explain the duty of parents."
_N. B._ The explanation is, that the duties of parents comprehend "maintenance, education, and a reasonable provision for the child"s happiness in respect to outward condition.... A father of a family is bound to adjust his economy with a view to these demands upon his fortune; and until a sufficiency for these ends is acquired, or in due time _probably_ will be acquired (for in human affairs _probability_ ought to content us,) frugality and exertions of industry are duties. He is also justified in declining expensive liberality: for, to take from those who want, to give to those who want, adds nothing to the stock of public happiness. Thus far, therefore, and no farther, the plea of "children," of "large families," charity begins at home," &c. is an excuse for parsimony, and an answer to those who solicit our bounty. Beyond this point, as the use of riches becomes less, the desire of _laying up_ should abate proportionably.
"3. "That charity does not consist in giving money, but in benevolence, philanthropy, love to all mankind, goodness of heart," &c. Hear St. James: "If a brother or sister be naked, and dest.i.tute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in peace; be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding _ye give them not those things which are needful to the body_; what doth it profit?" James ii. 15, 16.
"4. "That giving to the poor is not mentioned in St. Paul"s description of charity in the thirteenth chapter of his first epistle to the Corinthians." This is not a description of charity, but of good nature; and it is not necessary that every duty be mentioned in every place.
"5. "That they pay the poor-rates." They might as well allege that they pay their debts: for the poor have the same right to that portion of a man"s property which the laws a.s.sign to them, that the man himself has to the remainder.
"6. "That they employ many poor persons:"--for their own sake, not the poor"s;--otherwise it is a good plea.
"7. "That the poor do not suffer so much as we imagine; that education and habit have reconciled them to the evils of their condition, and make them easy under it." Habit can never reconcile human nature to the extremities of cold, hunger, and thirst, any more than it can reconcile the hand to the touch of a red hot iron; besides, the question is not, how unhappy any one is, but how much more happy we can make him.
"8. "That these people, give them what you will, will never thank you, or think of you for it." In the first place, this is not true; in the second place, it was not for the sake of their thanks that you relieved them.
"9. "That we are liable to be imposed upon." If a due inquiry be made, our merit is the same; besides that the distress is generally real, although the cause be untruly stated. "10. "That they should apply to their parishes." This is not always practicable: to which we may add, that there are many requisites to a comfortable subsistence which parish relief does not supply; and that there are some, who would suffer almost as much from receiving parish relief as by the want of it; and lastly, that there are many modes of charity to which this answer does not relate at all.
"11. "That giving money encourages idleness and vagrancy." This is true only of injudicious and indiscriminate generosity.
"12. "That we have too many objects of charity at home, to bestow any thing upon strangers; or that there are other charities, which are more useful, or stand in greater need." The value of this excuse depends entirely upon the _fact_, whether we actually relieve those neighbouring objects, and contribute to those other charities.
"Besides all these excuses, pride, or prudery, or delicacy, or love of ease, keep one half of the world out of the way of observing what the other half suffer."
The sentiments expressed by the profound Dr. Barrow [44] will form an appropriate conclusion to the present chapter.
"If we contemplate our wealth itself, we may therein descry great motives to bounty. Thus to employ our riches, is really the best use they are capable of; not only the most innocent, most worthy, most plausible; but the most safe, most pleasant, most advantageous, and consequently in all respects most prudent way of disposing of them. To keep them close, without using or enjoying them at all, is a most sottish extravagance or a strange kind of madness; a man thence affecting to be rich, quite impoverished himself, dispossesseth himself of all, and alienateth from himself his estate; his gold is no more his than when it was in the Indies, or lay hid in the mines; his corn is no more his than if it stood growing in Arabia or China; he is no more owner of his lands than he is master of Jerusalem or Grand Cairo; for what difference is there, whether distance of place or baseness of mind sever things from him? whether his own heart or another man"s hand detain them from his use? whether he hath them not at all, or hath them to no purpose? whether one is a beggar out of necessity or choice? is pressed to want, or a volunteer thereto? Such an one may fancy himself rich, and others, as wise as himself, may repute him so; but so distracted persons, to themselves and to one another do seem great princes, and style themselves such; with as much reason almost he might pretend to be wise or to be good. Riches are ???ata things whose nature consists in usefulness; abstract that, they become nothing, things of no consideration or value; he that hath them is no more concerned in them than he that hath them not. It is the heart, and skill to use affluence of things wisely and n.o.bly, which makes it wealth, and const.i.tutes him rich that hath it; otherwise the chests may be crammed, and the barns stuffed full, while the man is miserably poor and beggarly; "tis in this sense true which the wise man says, "_There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing_""
Lydia.
Chapter XI.
Account of Paul and his Companions meeting with Lydia by the River-side at Philippi--the Impression produced upon her Heart by the Preaching of Paul--Remarks on Conversion as exemplified in the Case of this Disciple--its Seat the Heart--its Accomplishment the Result of divine Agency--the Manner of it noticed--the Effects of a divine Influence upon the human Mind, namely, attention to the Word of G.o.d and the Ordinances of the Gospel, and affectionate Regard to the Servants of Christ--Remarks on the Paucity of real Christians--the multiplying Power of Christianity--its present State in Britain--Efforts of the Bible Society.
The historical part of the New Testament, called the ACTS or THE APOSTLES, contains a faithful record of the early propagation of the Gospel and the incessant exertions of the first labourers in the vineyard. They were not men who "wasted their strength in strenuous idleness," or dissipated the time of action in "laboriously doing nothing;" but were endowed with extraordinary qualifications and an inextinguishable zeal for their novel and interesting employment. They reflected the light of the Sun of Righteousness upon a dark age, and glowed with the very spirit of their ascended Lord. Remarkable effects were produced upon the moral world, notwithstanding the counteracting influence of human prejudice and opposition; and as they quitted the world, amidst the whirlwinds of persecution and in the flames of martyrdom, they dropped from their ascending chariots the mantle upon their successors in office, who "entered into their labours," and continued "with great power" to give "witness of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus; and great grace was upon them all."
So wonderful are the appointments of Providence, that we find a youth who took an active part in the murder of the first martyr to the Christian cause, and afterward breathed forth an unrelenting hostility against all its adherents, selected as the chief instrument of its extension in various countries. That mighty energy which "commanded the light to shine out of darkness," as he was on a persecuting expedition to Damascus, "shined into his heart," and by a miraculous interposition not only checked him in his career, but communicated to him "the light of the knowledge of the glory of G.o.d in the face of Christ Jesus," and turned all the energies of his character into a new and most important course of exertion. He became a Christian, a preacher, an apostle, and a missionary to the Gentile world: and while by his indefatigable labours he benefitted so large a proportion of his contemporaries, by his inspired epistles he has instructed the church "of G.o.d in every succeeding age of the world.
Paul appears to have travelled over a considerable portion of Asia and part of Europe. Barnabas, and afterward Silas and Timotheus, accompanied him. In many places he suffered great personal injury, and his valuable life was repeatedly endangered. Having pa.s.sed through Phrygia and the proconsular province of Asia, of which Ephesus was the capital, Paul and Silas came at length to Troas, where the former had a vision, in which he saw an inhabitant of Macedonia standing before him, and uttering this request, "Come over and help us." This impressed his mind with a conviction that he was called in providence to preach the gospel in that part of Greece; and he immediately sailed down the Aegean Sea by the island of Samothracia and the port of Neapolis, and from thence to Philippi, which was a Roman colony. [45]
In this city, whither it seems probable from the history, that Luke had accompanied them, they remained some days; and here we are introduced to the brief but instructive account of the excellent woman whose name is prefixed to this chapter.
Paul, and the companions of his missionary tour, first met with Lydia at one of the Jewish places of prayer by the river-side, which ran near the city. The Temple at Jerusalem, and previously the Tabernacle, were the appointed places for the public worship of G.o.d, in the open court of which, before the altar, the people a.s.sembled. But such as lived at a distance, or from local inconveniences could not constantly repair to the place of general a.s.sociation, were allowed to build _Proseuchiae_, or _Oratories_, in one of which our Saviour continued all night in prayer.
They had no covering like synagogues, but were surrounded by porticoes, to afford shelter from the inclemency of the weather, and were erected in the suburbs of a city, by the baths or near rivers, on account of the purifications so frequent with the Jews, and usually on very elevated spots of ground. The proseucha signalized by the devotions of Christ was on a mountain. Some have supposed that Isaac went out to meditate in the evening in a place of this description. These were probably the _high places_ of ancient times, in or near which groves were planted, and which are only condemned in Scripture when appropriated to idolatrous purposes.
"I am like a green olive tree," says the Psalmist, "in the house of G.o.d."
Availing themselves of the opportunity afforded by the resort of devout persons to these religious retirements, these zealous ministers of the Gospel conversed and preached to the people, who on this occasion were chiefly women. But though many were addressed, it does not appear that more than one was substantially benefitted. Her attention was excited, her heart opened, and her profession of the name of Jesus immediate and public. The several points of her character deserve particular and distinct ill.u.s.tration.
Lydia is said to have been of the city of Thyatira; but whether she had removed to Philippi, or was only come for the purpose of trade, is not certain. She was one who "worshipped G.o.d," that is, one who, in distinction from the heathen around her, had learned the character of Jehovah, and was probably a Jewish proselyte. [46] Instructed in the ancient records of that extraordinary nation, which had been so many past ages the only depository of divine truth, she was expecting the predicted Messiah; and while, from the natural aversion of mankind to the humiliating doctrine of salvation through a crucified person, the greater proportion of Jews rejected him, she experienced a true conversion, not only from the principles of heathenism, but from those of Judaism, to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. A few instances of this description occur in the evangelical record to show the sovereignty and diversified operations of the grace of G.o.d.
That moral change, that spiritual renovation, which has been called CONVERSION, is, we are aware, and ever will be, the subject of profane ridicule amongst unbelievers. It does not indeed produce any astonishment, although it awakens extreme regret, that one of the most obvious effects resulting from the publication of the Gospel of Christ should be so unblushingly denied by this cla.s.s of mankind. "The natural man discerneth not the things of the Spirit of G.o.d, because they are spiritually discerned." The scriptures themselves predict this incapacity, even in some of the most refined and intellectual of our species, to form a conception of this marvellous change; and experience evinces the truth of what they affirm, and which originates in the very nature of things. It is characteristic of human perversity to disbelieve what is imperceptible to reason or invisible to sense, and to vaunt itself upon that very infidelity as a distinctive mark of pre-eminence, which is, in fact, a proof of debas.e.m.e.nt and guilt. If a system of religion were to be so constructed as to be exempt from the ridicule of the profane, it must be itself ridiculous; because their distorted minds cannot discern the beauties of truth, and their depraved feelings will not admit her claims.
To secure their approbation religion must change her character, alter her doctrines, new cast her precepts, and new modify her principles.
Lydia presents an interesting specimen not only of the reality but of the nature of the great work of conversion; and, however contemptible the subject may appear in the eye of a dissipated world, or to the mind of a prejudiced reader, we hesitate not to state the sentiments which necessarily arise out of the present example respecting the seat and source of this change, the agent by whom it is accomplished, and the corresponding effects produced.
1. Our attention is, in the first place, to be directed to _the seat of this spiritual renovation_. It is said of Lydia, that her HEART was opened. This change, therefore, is of a moral nature, not merely circ.u.mstantial, but radical. It does not consist in a.s.suming a new name, professing new opinions, using a new language, performing a few rites and ceremonies, or reforming a few exterior vices, These are only branches--the tree itself must be made good--the crab stock of nature must be grafted with spiritual principles, and by being planted in the garden of the Lord be brought under a heavenly culture. It is then only "the fruits of righteousness" may be antic.i.p.ated, "which are to the glory and praise of G.o.d."
The disordered state of the pa.s.sions is a striking evidence of human degeneracy. In consequence of this a thousand mistakes are committed, and a thousand follies practised. Each pa.s.sion is fixed on a wrong object, pursues an unworthy end, and is susceptible of false impressions. Indeed, the will is totally perverted, and chooses, with obstinate resolution, whatever is erroneous and criminal; on which account men are represented in the metaphorical language of Scripture, as "loving darkness rather than light." So astonishing is the degree of this perversion, that the Supreme _Good_ is dreaded and avoided as if he were the only _evil_ in the universe; and, however vain the attempt, guilt is continually seeking concealment in some secret covert, some supposed security from his omniscient inspection. Captivated by deceitful appearances, human confidence is perpetually misplaced, and therefore perpetually betrayed; the siren song of pleasure soothes the unhappy captives of her bewitching charms into the bosom of destruction--the splendour of earthly distinctions dims the eye of sense, and prevents its perception of the bright realities of heaven. In fact, such has been the melancholy effect of sin upon the perceptions of the human soul, that every thing is seen through the medium of sensual pa.s.sions in an inverted position--good seems evil, and evil good--and till this disorder become rectified by a divine touch, the heart will remain at enmity against G.o.d, the refuge and resort of the worst dispositions, and the great central pandemonium of every diabolical affection. Such is the statement of Jesus Christ himself, "From within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness; all these things come from within, and defile the man."
As the intellectual and moral state of man are, in a religious view, closely connected, the renovation of the heart is essentially connected with an important change in the understanding. The latter may, indeed, be considerably improved and informed when no spiritual effect is produced upon the former, but the former cannot be renewed without corresponding and coincident effects on the latter; and the illumination of the understanding is so universal, that believers are said to be "light in the Lord." Their perceptions of truth are not mere gleamings and streaks of divine radiance thrown across the obscurity of the mind, but all is light.
Nor is it merely new light diffused over objects familiar to the thoughts, but a discovery of new scenes. The soul, in a sense, changes its hemisphere, emerges from darkness, ascends to the summits of Pisgah, and contemplates the ineffable glories of a new creation. "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature; old things are pa.s.sed away, behold all things are become new." How touching and how worthy of adoption the poet"s language:
"Celestial light Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate; there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse!"
MILTON.
The total renovation of the heart is evinced by susceptibility of conscience. This moral faculty, in an unregenerate state, is either perverted or hardened. In the former case, our obligations are not clearly discerned, or are easily dispensed with; in the latter, the most powerful appeals to love or fear are resisted. In the progress of sin to its most awful consummation, those gentle whispers which were at first noticed, and made the transgressor tremble till he sometimes let fall the forbidden fruit, are at length unheard. Every intimation is silenced by guilty merriment, which perhaps was at first forced, but soon becomes habitual. Where conscience is not lulled into total inaction, it is, in this state of character, violated with little remorse. The mind loses sight of the glory of G.o.d, its best regulating principle; it is alive to personal interests only, and discards every thing of a n.o.bler nature. But, in the sincere and humble Christian, conscience is tender, easily offended with evil, and gradually approximating that state of susceptibly in respect to sin, in which it resembles a well-polished mirror, that shows the slightest particle of dust or damp upon its surface. Such a conscience is no less _rigorous_ than it is tender, and repels temptation with persevering energy. It will hold no debate with the tempter; and so far from seeking to ascertain how far it may advance towards sinful compliances without contracting actual guilt, it will "abstain from all _appearance_ of evil."
In stating that the heart is the seat of those principles and the source of that transformation of character which is comprehended in the term _conversion_, it is intended to express the _permanent_ nature of the change. It is not an opinion or an emotions resembling the morning cloud and early dew that pa.s.s away, but an abiding and deep-wrought alteration.
"He which hath begun a good work in you, will carry it on until the day of Christ Jesus;" in consequence of which, "the path of the just is as the shining light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day."
"That such improvements of character often _have_ occurred, and are often taking place now, cannot be denied by any philosophic observer of human nature: to disregard them, or to neglect an investigation of their use, is to neglect one of the most interesting cla.s.ses of facts observable amongst mankind. Who has not either heard of or witnessed the most extraordinary changes of conduct, produced through the _apparent_ influence (to say the least) of religious motives? I say nothing here of the _three thousand_ converted in one day at the feast of Pentecost--of the conversion of St.
Paul and others mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles--because those are usually ascribed to the miraculous and _extraordinary_ influences of the Holy Spirit in the apostolic times. But I may call your attention ttomatters of more recent occurrence. You have witnessed instances of men running eagerly the career of folly and dissipation, who have been suddenly arrested, and changed from "lovers of pleasure" to "lovers of G.o.d." You have known others who have devoted themselves early to the military profession, who literally knew _no_ fear, who have spent their lives in the pursuit of glory, who have approached the verge of life full of scars and full of honours, still panting after "glory, honour, immortality," but thinking nothing of "eternal life;" till, touched by an irresistible hand, they have been transformed from good soldiers to "good soldiers of Jesus Christ," have buckled on "the armour of G.o.d," "fought the good fight of faith," and following "the Captain of their salvation,"