suddenly fastened its mysterious grasp upon a rock, to which he was now chained by invisible yet adamantine bonds. To go for help was to hazard its possession. To stay and watch it was death by starvation. He could do neither; yet something he must do. Before the discovery, hope made him happy. Now a fancied possession made him wretched. Imprisoned there day after day, though neither wall, nor chain, nor keeper could be seen, he lived miserably on nuts which had fallen from some neighbouring trees. A little stream hardly gave him drink. At length, forced by necessity, he resolved to go for machinery and workmen. To secure the rock during his absence, he covered it over with mud, that no sparkling grains might tempt a rival claimant. So, wearily, and with protracted labour, tugging up the hill with water and earth, he smeared the prize all over with its ingenious disguise; and then he departed to consummate his golden plans, and realize his dreams of earthly glory Many a sun has risen and set again upon that unsightly rock of the gold desert, but no foot of man has come to the spot. The moon looks down in her monthly visits, and wonders where those sparkling grains have gone which used to dance in her magic light. Years have rolled round; but the secret still sleeps where the discoverer buried it,-and he has never returned to take his prize! He never carried home the treasure! true; Miserable lover of gold, behold thine image! You are rich, it is but happiness and you parted company when you gave your heart to that fortune which you call your own. You too must go and leave it! Watch it day and night until death shuts your eyes; still you must go away; and, like the Californian adventurer, you will never return from your long journey to see it or touch it again. Can you not find more enduring riches?-New York Observer. MARK xiii. 12, "The brother shall betray the brother to death." 831. A Popish Fratricide.-John Diazius, a native of Spain, having embraced the Protestant faith, came afterwards to Germany, where he visited Malvinda, the Pope's agent there. Having attempted in vain to bring him back to the church of Rome, Malvinda sent to Rome for his brother, Alphonsus Diazius, who, hearing that his brother was become a Protestant, came into Germany with an assassin, resolving either to draw him back to Popery, or to destroy him. Alphonsus, finding his brother so stead fast in his belief of the truths of the gospel, that neither the promises nor threats of the Pope's agent, nor his own pretensions of brotherly love, could prevail on him to return to Popery, feigned to take a most friendly and affectionate farewell, and then departed. Having soon returned, he sent in the ruffian who accompanied him, with letters to his brother, himself following behind, and while his brother was reading them, the assassin cleft his head with a hatchet which they purchased on the way from a carpenter; and taking horse, they both rode off. Alphonsus, though highly applauded by the Papists, became the prey of a guilty conscience. His horror and dread of mind were so insupportable, that, being at Trent during the General Council, like another Judas, he put an end to his life by hanging himself. EZEK. xlvii. 9, "And it shall come to pass, that every thing that liveth, which moveth, whithersoever the rivers shall come, shall live and there shall be a very great multitude of fish, because these waters shall come thither: for they shall be healed; and every thing shall live whither the river cometh." 832. The Healing of the Waters.-The Rhone and Arve.-I stood some years ago near the fair city of Geneva, where two great rivers meet, but do not mingle. There the Rhone-the arrowy Rhone-rapid and beautiful, pours out its waters of that heavenly blue, which it is almost worth a pilgrimage to see; and there the Arve, frantic and muddy, partly from the glaciers from which it is so largely fed, and partly from the clayey soil that it upheaves in its impetuous path, meet and run on side by side for miles, with no barriers, save their own innate repulsions, each encroaching now and then into the province of the other, but beaten back instantly into its own domain. Like mighty rival forces of good and evil do they seem, and for long-just as it is in the world around us-for long the issue is doubtful; but if you look far down the stream, you find the frantic Arve is mastered, and the Rhone has coloured the whole surface of the stream with its own emblematic and beautiful blue. I thought, as I gazed upon it, that it was a remarkable illustration of the conflict between truth and error; and in meditating upon this subject, in thinking of the flow of the healing waters, and reading that they should flow into the sea and heal it, the whole thing rose up before me, fresh and vivid, as a thing that happened yesterday.-REV. W. M. PUNSHON. JOHN XV. 2, "Every branch that beareth fruit, He purgeth it, that 833. Mr. Cecil and the Gardener.-"I have heard Mr. Cecil mention, with much feeling," says his biographer, "many deep and secret conflicts of mind, with which he was exercised while at college; added to which, he had to meet many insults, which profligate men offer to piety. Under these impressions, he was one day walking in the gardens, where he observed a very fine pomegranate tree, cut almost through the stem near the root. On asking the gardener the reason of this, 'Sir,' said he, 'this tree used to shoot so strong, that it bore nothing but leaves : I was therefore obliged to cut it in this manner; and when it was almost cut through, then it began to bear plenty of fruit.' The gardener's explanation of this act conveyed a striking illustration to Mr. Cecil's mind, and he went back to his room comforted and instructed by this image." 1 Cor. xvi. 22, "If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Maran-atha." 834. Luke Short.-Mr. Flavel, on one occasion, preached from the above passage. The discourse was unusually solemn, particularly the explanation of the words anathema maran-atha— "cursed with a curse, cursed of God with a bitter and grievous curse." At the conclusion of the service, when Mr. Flavel rose to pronounce the benediction, he paused, and said, "How shall I bless this whole assembly, when every person in it, who loveth not the Lord Jesus Christ, is anathema maran-atha ?" The solemnity of this address affected the audience; and one gentleman, a person of rank, was so overcome by his feelings, that he fell senseless to the floor. In the congregation was a lad named Luke Short, then about fifteen years old, and a native of Dartmouth. Soon after he went to America, where he passed the rest of his life, first at Marblehead, and afterwards at Middleborough, Massachusetts. Mr. Short's life was lengthened much beyond the usual time. When a hundred years old, he had sufficient strength to work on his farm, and his mental faculties were very little impaired. Hitherto he had lived in carelessness and sin; he was now "a sinner an hundred years old," and apparently ready to “die accursed.” But one day, as he sat in the field, he busied himself in reflecting on his past life. Recurring to the events of his youth, his memory fixed upon Mr. Flavel's discourse above alluded to, a considerable part of which he was able to recollect. The affectionate earnestness of the preacher's manner, the important truths he delivered, and the effects produced on the congregation, were brought fresh to his mind. The blessing of God accompanied his meditation: he felt that he had not "loved the Lord Jesus Christ;" he feared the dreadful anathema :" conviction was followed by repentance, and at length this aged sinner obtained peace through the blood of atonement, and was "found in the way of righteousness." He joined the Congregational church in Middleborough, and to the day of his death, which took place in his 116th year, gave pleasing evidences of piety. -66 1 JOHN ii. 16, "For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world." 835. Love of Dress.-A forcible instance occurs in "Ten Years of a Preacher's Life." A man, following the occupation of woodcutting, wrought with exemplary zeal the six working days, hoarding every cent not required to furnish him with the most frugal fare. As his "pile" increased, he invested it in gold ornaments,watch-chain of massive links, shirt and sleeve buttons, shoe buckles, then buttons for vest and coat, a hat-band of the precious metal, a heavy gold-headed cane; and, in short, wherever an ounce of it could be bestowed upon his person, in or out of taste, it was done. The glory of his life-his sole ambition-was to don this curious attire—which was deposited for safe keeping during the week in one of the banks-on Sunday morning, and then spend the day the observed of all observers," lounging about the office or bar-room of the St. Charles. He never drank, and rarely spoke. Mystery seemed to envelop him. No one knew whence he came, or the origin of his innocent whim. Old citizens assured you that year after year his narrow savings were measured by the increase of his ornaments, until at length the value of the anomalous garments came to be estimated by thousands of dollars. By ten o'clock on Sunday night the exhibition was closed-his one day of self-gratification enjoyed-his costly wardrobe was returned to the bank vault, and he came back into the obscurity of a wood-chopper. ㄨ |