"< • ■ : ; — t ME. HAMMOND'S LETTER FROM SYRIA. Yes! we are in Damascus, “the oldest city.in the world.” We left Beyrout, Friday the 9th, by a diligence, drawn by six horses. We were about fourteen hours on our journey. We changed horses twelve times, so that seventy-two were employed to pull us up and down the lofty sides of Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon. Sometimes the horses ran for miles. We Americans, even, were a little alarmed at the terrible break-neck speed with which we were hurled along the mountain's rocky cliffs. Our way lay over a shoulder of Lebanon, 5,600 feet high. Away to the north of us, in towering majesty, lay Sunnin, ten thou sand feet high, its top covered with snow. It whs a glorious sight. 1 {Between Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon we crossed a level plain, through which flows the river Itittany, which falls into the sea between Tyre and Sidon. Anti-Lebanon, 3,500 feet high, Was now quickly passed. Both these mountains are now entirely barren—at least they appear so as looked upon from the base. In some places the sides ate formed into terraces and cultivated. Dr. Budington observed that it might be we passed that day the very spot from which the cedars of Lebanon were taken to build Solomon’s Temple. As we approached Damascus just in the twilight, we could not realize that we were so soon to walk in'the city which Absalom looked upon four thousand years ago, (Gen. xiv. 15; xv. 2,) and whither blind Paul was “ led by the hand,” (Ac.ts ix. *9,) and that the Bwiftly-flowing river by our side was the Abana. I never felt such a thrill of delight in approaching any Other city. The next morning my first desire was to visit “ the street which is called Straight.” On our way we saw more strange objects and things could 1 be described in a dozen letters. We saw nothing in Egypt so thoroughly Ori ental as in Damascus. The bazaars are a wonder in themselves. We have nothing in America to which they can be compared. Each trade has its own bazaar, which is like one great shop with a number of shelves in it, a manor boy squatting on;each, with his merchandise close about him, so that he can lay his hand upon it without being obliged to> rise. But you must stand in the street if you would make purchases in Damascus, and ybu must look out, or that long string of camels, with huge packs, will knock you down, as they sweep the streets; or that donkey, all covered over with a pile of brush, nearly as wide as the narrow street, will unceremoniously scratch your face, . :<*■■■- :—-- —„— t We finally reached the Street called Straight, but 0, how we were disappointed! We were told that the street through which Paul walked was twenty feet underneath in his time. It was a hfeautiful . Broadway, one hundred feet in width, lined with Corinthian pillars. As a proOf of this, we were pointed to some - of this colonnade only eight or ten feet above ground. We were first led ;to the: house of-Judas, Acts ix. 11. where Annanias found Saul, and said'to him: “Brother Saul, the Lord, even Jesus, that appeared unto thee in the way as thou earnest, hath sent me that thou mightest receive thy sight and be filled with the Holy Ghost.” But we saw no evi dence that this was the real house of Paul’s kind host.; On the contrary, it appeared of quite modern construction. But it was enough for us to know that some where, in that street, Saul once tarried with Judas; *and" that there it was said, “behold, he prayeth,” and that in that same house, “ there fell from his eyes as it had been shales, and he received sight forthwith.” This Mouse is now used by the Moslems as a place for prayer. A mile in length is the “ Street called Straight.” Passing through the south gate, we turned to the right and in fifteen minutes we came to a gate which has been walled up for seven hundred years. Here, tradition says, was the scene of Paul’s escape from the city. At first it seemed strange that a window should be placed upon the high wall surrounding a city, but we ceased to wonder when we read in Joshua ii. 15: “Then she let them down by a cord through the window, for her house was upon the town wall, and she dwelt upon the wall.” And then we read Paul’s o*n words, 2 Cor. xi. 23: “And through a win dow in a basket was I let down by tbe wall and escaped.” Tory likely, after all, the real window from which Paul escaped to save his life is no longer in existence. But still, if we were de ceived we rather enjoyed it. We were most deeply interested in visiting the reputed site of the home of “ Naomi, captain of the host of the king of Syria." It has long been used as a Lazar bouse, and among its gloomy ruins we found nine real lepers. There was ni> mistaking them, for we saw the effect of the terrible disease. Some of them had, joint by joint, lost their fingers. One woman’s nose had dropped off. Another parted- with most of the bones of liis feet. Ob, it was an awful sight, and ySt I would not have missed seeing these nine epers. Had we touched them, most likely we houid have been ourselves shut up in that same Ikzar house. What' a picture of sin it was) We read over, with deeper interest'than ever, 2 Kings v. We gathered some leaves of a fig tree.growing ® one part of the ruins, and broke off Apiece of tone from one.of the fallen columns. Damascus, Nov. 12, 1866. THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, JANUARY 31, 1867. Our guide then conducted us to the so-called house of Ananias. Its lower floor was some fif teen feet below the level of the street. -This was almost the only evidence that led-us to think that Ananias ever walked its floors. For Damascus, as it stood in the days of Paul, is every where some twenty or thirty feet below the city, which to day numbers 150,000. Rev. Mr. Wright told us that in excavating for the foundation of the mission chapel, they had to penetrate some forty feet through old sewers and all sorts of,rubbish, before a solid foundation was reached. How true the words of Isaiah : “ Behold, Damascusis taken away from being a city and it shall be a ruinous heap.” And so it is, even now, in comparison with what it was in the days when these pro phetic words were spoken. We paid a most interesting visit to Dr. Mesha kab. He was once no better than a heathen, but Rev. Dr. King, so long the faithful mission ary at Athens, fell in with him and taught him the way to salvation through Christ. Since then he has been a most earnest worker for the Master. He wields a powerful pen, with which he has written some six evangelical works, which have been published in Arabic. He spoke with tear ful tenderness of bis gratitude to Dr. KiDg, as the means of bis conversion. His life was in great danger at the time of the massacre, when two thousand five hundred Christians were mur dered in cold blood in Damascus, and over six thousand in Syria. He and his sons told us much about those terrible times. His bouse, among hundreds of others, was burned to the ground in the “Christian’s quarter.” This good man is now the American Consul. • • I wish I could describe his beautiful bouse. All the streets in Damascus are so marrow that two horsemen can scarcely walk abreast, and when, from one of these dark streets, we entered the beautiful, airy residence of Dr. Meshakah, the effect was delightful. At first, we appeared to be in a garden surrounded with elegant apart ments, A little lake of crystal water, into which tiny streams from the Abana were, playing, and surrounded by orange and lemon trees, was in the centre. Passing through this court or , garden, we entered a, beautiful drawing-room, around whose sides was the usual wide and luxurious divan. The ceiling was richly covered in gold and crimson fretwork. Refreshments in Oriental style were served to us. This house is a speci men of those of the first class in this most won derful Eastern city. Here we saw the only lady’s face we were permitted to look upon while in Damascus. Dr. Meshakah’s son introduced us to his wife. She was thirteen years old and had been married four months. It is very com mon to marry at this age in this cffuutry. By-pnji rrg-ffvo- autiorrlU-gtJ4--fijiv.ofcn--pt>rfey-pf four, we were so fortunate as to gain admission to the great Mosque. We could only walk on its marble floor with slippers, which we had to pur chase for the occasion. We were first shown the burial place of the head of John the Baptist, which, we were solemnly told, rolled all the way to Damascus! This Mosque is supposed to occupy the site of the heathen temple Rimmon (2 Kings v. 18.) It was converted into a Christian church in the third or fourth centtiry, when many in Damascus were true followers of Christ. In 705 A.D,,: the Moslems got full possession. More than twelve hundred years ago over one of its magnificent portals was written in Creek these words: “Thy kingdom, O Christ, is an everlast ing kingdom, and thy dominion endurefh through out all generations.” Part of it is still quite readable. A part of our four days in Damascus was spent in riding out to an eminence to get not only a good view of the-city, hut more especially to see the place Dr. Porter and many others believe was -the scene of Paul’s conversion. Kankol, a ruin ous village about ten miles from the city, is the place where tradition, at least as old as the time of the crusades, says Paul “ heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul, why,persecutestthou me?” No one professes to know the exact spot, but it must have been some where on that same road to Jerusalem. We felt sure that Paul must have looked upon the same mountainous landscape as that which met our own gaze. The ninth chap ter of Acts seemed fraught with deeper interest as we read it after having seen this and the other places supposed to be connected with his visit to Damascus. NONE LIVETH TO HIMSELF. God has written upon the flowers that' sweeten the air—on the breeze that rocks the flowers on the stem—upon the ocean that rocks every swimmer in its deep cham bter —upon the rain-drop that refreshes the sprig of moss that lifts its head in the desert —upon every penciled shell that sleeps in the caverns of the deep, no less than upon the mighty sun that warms and Cheers mil lions of Creatures that live in its light —upon His works.he has written, “Hone of us liveth to himself!” And probably, were we wise enough to understand these works, we should find that there is nothing, from the cold stone in the earth to the minutest creature that breathes, which may not, in some way or other, minister to the happi ness of some living creature: We admire and praise the flower that best answers'tbe end for which it was created, and the tree that hears fruitthe most rich and abundant; the star that is most useful in the heavens we admire the most. And is it not reasonable that man, to whom the whole creation, from the flower up to the spangled heavens, all minister— man, who has power of conferring deeper misery and higher happiness than any being on earth—man, who can act like God, if he will; is it not reasonable that he should live for the noble end of living—not for himself, bnt for others ? [Dr. Adams’ First Sermon.] Jesus on tlife Shore* Sermon preached in Ike North Broad Street Church, Jan, 20th, 1867, b;/ By Rev. E. E. Adams, D. D. Jno. xxi. 4—“ Jesus stood on the shore.’* A landscape is not complete without the presence of living creatures. There may he hill and vliiley, and distant mountain, woodland and pasture, orchard and field ; there may be stream and island, and sea shore, but the eye is not satisfied, the artistic idea is not complete, sympathy with nature is not fully evoked, until we behold “ the cattle on a thousand hills," the dwellers of forest and field bounding among the brakes, or singing in shrub and tree, and the ten antry of the floods leaping to the light. As the inferior orders of existence are essential to a true impression of nature, much more is man, to whom its life ministers, around whom it revolves. This element in onr view of material scenes is en hanced by the presence of men distinguished for ora tory or song, for statesmanship or courage or bene volence. Their great life is wrought into the acres which they occupy, and sheds its glory on us tlirough the forms which surround them. In the classic lands the spot can hardly be named that is not hallowed by a wondrous life. From the sound of our footsteps, as we "wander there, starts the me mory of some grand achievement. The Aegean waves roll shoreward, 1 With the voices of the grealdead in them; and the tourist of this generationfffnds his chief interest in re-peopling those regions with the spirits of the past. Palestine is pre-eminent for this kind of associa tion. While its scenery is varied and sublime, every liand-breadth therein is hallowed by traditions of men and deeds. Along the shores and on the waters of Gennesaret were achieved the noblest hu man histories. There lived, and hoped, and suf fered, the moral heroes of the first ceutury. There stood the cities Magdafa, Capernaum, Oliorazin and Bethsaida, wherein were wrought the first events of Christianity. There the Son of God uttered his di vine words and did his wondrous works; The union of the grand and beautiful there is sufficient to in terest the traveller; but the Christian poet better expresses the true charm of that locality: “How pleasant to me thy deep blue wave, . Thou Sea of Galilee! For the glorious. One, who,came to save, Hath often stood by thee. Graceful around thee the mountains meet. Thou calm, reposing sea,— But ah, far more, the beautiful feet Of Jesus walked o’er thee.” It is morning on Gennesaret. The disciples, en gaged in their calling as fishermen, having toiled in vain through the dreary night, now find themselves cold, weary, hungry, and disappointed. What a contrast is their condition to the glory of nature! The hills catching the first glow,.of dawn —the lake lighted into splendour by the “king of day!” “You should have been out .with me,” says a writer, “on the promontory which overhangs the lake, to see the day break along the eastern mountains. At first it was intensely dark, but anon it began to soften low down and far to the north. Then sud denly the note of a lark rang out, silvery and joyous, as if from the very midst of the stars. In rapid suc cession, bird after bird rose up, hymning their early matin, until the whole marble vault of heaven was vocal with invisible choristers. One by one the stars faded before the glowing day, and every mo ment the scene shifted and changed from bright to brighter, from glory to glory, throwing down dark shadows from the eastern cliffs upon the broad bo som of Gennesaret. . At length the first rays of the -SUD.,elsai3iecLen.thMfibws' head of Hermoti, reveal ing deep wFffficle;» < storms or many- geife rations have drawn across his stern, cold brow.” Add to this—the disciples in their ship, wasting their labor and their patience in vain efforts to fill their nets, —-and Jesus, the lowly Man who had come down from his solitary rest in the mountains, and stood there in the first glimmer of dawn,—Jesus, the Son of God, at whose word those mountains rose, and the lake first bared its silvery bosom to the sun, —and you have the portraiture of that mornino' in which “He showed himself alive after his pas sion.” “ Jesus stood on the shore.” . We now inquire why he stood there—and what his act suggests in its relation to our spiritual history. I. In the first place, his object was to reveal him self to his disciples. He had already passed through death into the spirit world, and had returned to the earthly life. His followers knew of his departure— they did not yet fully apprehend the fact of his re surrection. Important as this fact was to their faith and steadfastness, to their happiness and sal vation, it was more his desire than theirs that they believe still in his existence, his interest in them, liis nearness to them, and his infinite ability to bless them. The work of interposition for humanity is not complete but for his survival over death. The message of the gospel will not convince and win men, unless it can be enforced by evidence of his resurrection. Nothing can, therefore, be more de sirable, in the mind of Christ, than the proof to men of his re-appearance upon earth. Standing, in the dim dawn, on the shore of Gennesaret, where he had walked, and talked and prayed with his disciples, before his passion, he felt, no doubt, an irrepressible urgency again toreveal himself;-to demonstrate,--by bis look, and speech, and manner, —his identity, that they might be confirmed, —might grasp the grand subduing fact of redemption—might look through liis open tomb into tbe life immortal—might see their own life hid with him in God—might behold the clouds that gathered over their destiny breaking and melting away in the new, divine effulgence— might look on bis risen body as the glorious arche type of what shall be their own 1 Did they see and feel all this? Had their spirits risen so (iir above the world of sense—so far emerged from their low associations and their national prejudice, that they could take in these divine verities? Nay —do we now, with our intelligence and our beliefs, —do ice apprehend their grandeur and bless edness? Do our souls look through their prisons of flesh and earth, to get a full, an exultant realization of the life that awaits us? Do we feel the light of resurrection bursting in through the darkness, a,nd kindling our spirits to celestial fervor and hope? Do vye catch the glowing certainties of our futurity— the inheritance of the saints—“ the gladness and-the glory" of “the house, not made with hands?" Shall the heir to titles find estates exult when the hour of his majority presses close upon him ? Shall the searcher after truth lose himself in ecstasy when the object of his long search comes out in untrou bled brightness from the depth of mystery ? Shall the astronomer find no limit to his delight when, for the first time, a new planet rolls across the field of his telescope, or new phenomena meet his eye on some world whose facts have been hidden from all the centuries ? And shall not we take up the cho rus of joy when, through the “mist of ages,”—nay, from tlie very margin of time, we look off into “ the new heavens and the hew earth ” —our kingdom our home, wherein dwelleth righteousness? H. Again: Jesus stood on the shore —that he might supply the temporal wants of his disciples. .'They lived by their craft. They had toiled all night and,taken nothing. They were cold and hun gry.. Jesus does not overlook the demands of the body, He pities the laborer who wants bread. He remembers the poor whose toils are scantily re warded. ’ He offers them his treasures. - He causes the earth to give them its riches. He fills the nets which they drop into the sea. He kindles a fire to warm their trembling limbs and prepare their food. Christ mates men feel that religion is for the whole being. It is a part of .Christianity to feed th'e hungry, to heal the sick. It is not a shadowy thing, dealing only with the invisible in man. It goes with us into our fields, and shops, and stores.’ It journeys with us; it labors with us. It spreads our tables. It nerves our arm for duty. It presides over our studies and inventions —over our recrea tions and pursuits. It is with us when, like IsaaCj we go out to meditate at eventide, —or when, like Paul, we sail on stormy seas, in the heat of battle, and in the rest that follows after. In the kindly ministries which Jesus rendered to his weary friends, they saw proofs of his identity. It was so ft’&ehim to tell them where they might fill their nets ! So like him to have a fire of coals with fishes prepared to tempt and then satisfy their hunger! This was the revelation of himself. And for this dis closure of love did his omnipotence work; for this did his omniscience explore the deep; for this did all the elements combine to serve him. If Christ revealed his power, his knowledge, his risen form to the wondering fishermen, it was that he might make known his love. This is the highest revelation. From the summit of the throne looks down, through power, through knowledge, through the barriers of nature, the benignant eye of love. Over the flesh, over reason, over mind, must we ascend to the high seat of charity. “God sittetli between the cheru bim “ —the angels of love. 111. Another purpose of Jesus, in standing on the shore was, to aid the faith of his disciples. He had appeared to them already. But, although they had twice seen him after his resurrection, they did not at first recognize him in the shadowy light of that morning. It was not enough that they saw him—not enough that he spake to them, although at the question “Children, have ye any meat/’ it was hardlj' possible that the*spirit of the loving John should not have begun to penetrate the mys tery. It was not until Jesus resumed his wonted command, and reproduced an event which tran spired on the same shore just before the election of the Apostles; when, having taught, the people from Simon's fishing-boat, he said to him: “Launch out now into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught. They obeyed him, although then, as on this occasion, they had toiled all night and taken nothing; and then, as now, they inclosed a great multitude of fishes. It was this repetition ot his command reminding them of his former miracle, revealing his omnipotence, demonstrating his iden tity and his survival of death, that made the beloved disciple exclaim: "It is the Lord,” and prompted the impetuous Peter to plunge into the sea that he might go to Jesus. And they all went to Jesus, dragging their treasure to the shore, and partaking of the repast miraculously provided for them; “and none of them dared ask him who art thou, knowing that it was the Lord.” After this, could they falter in their faith ? Could they ever doubt that Jesus had risen from the dead ? Could they ever fear that their master would fail them in the time of trial? Could they hesitate in tjieir mission to preach “Jesus and the resurrection?” Finally Jesus stood on the shore for the purpose of reinvesting Peter with the Apostolic office. Pe ter had not been cast off; he had truly, deeply re pented of his sin in denying his Lord. He still loved his Master with genuine devotion ; but there may have been a misgiving in his; mind with regard to the continuance of his office. He may have felt that he ought to surrender it, and that Christ would demand its surrender. It may have been supposed by the other apostles, that Peter’s sin would terminate his Apostleship. It may have seemed needful in the view of Christ, that-a public recognition of Peter be made, and proof given of authority for his continuance in office. Therefore, by a wise and explicit question, he called forth to the observation of the Other Apostles*, the * true state of Peter’s heart. “Loveat thou me?” “Lord, thou knowest that I love thee.” “Feed my sheep." I forgive thee. Thou art'mine again.’ Go forth to thy work with my authority and my blessing. Be a fisher of men. You shall be as successful in. the kingdom of God, as you were anliour ago in the boat yonder. ~ _ The circumstances of the occasion were peculiar. 1 hey had met there before; had toiled there all ni»ht in vain; had been directed by their Lord whefe°to east.their net; and had filled their ships with fishes. These facts not only aided their apprehension, and helped to confirm their faith, but reminded them of their original appointmentto the Apostleship.' There was also the fire of coals, which Peter could not be hold without thinking of that other fire in the palace of the High Priest, whereat, he warmed himself, and denied his Master; there was the draught of fishes,. significant of their success as fishers of men: there was the re-instating of Peter in such a way, that the memorials of his sin should also be reminders of his reconciliation ;—while the whole transaction was a striking assurance that the Kingdom of God should continue among men, that the death of Jesus, in stead of retarding, would enhance its triumphs; that Ilia Apostles had their great, work to accomplish under the continued care and sovereign authority of their Lord; and as they had no book in which to re cord their commission,, no written assurances to which they could refer in the moment of despond ency and fear, Christ gave to the acts of that hour the force of an oath. In the food-that satisfied their hunger, m the flame that warmed their chilled limbs, in the boats that labored with their miraculous bur den—they read the promise of heavenly favor, argu ments of immortality, and final glory! The silvery waves of Gennesaret speak to them of their Lord and repeat the melody of their hopes, while snowy liermon looks down on them from the distant sky a symbol of the vastness, purity and permanence of His kingdom! These, then, were the purposes of Jesus, in stand ing, at that morning hour, on the shore of Gen nesaret. 1. To reveal himself to his disciples in his resur rection life. 1 2 \ ° BU Pply their temporal wants, kindling a fire for.them, and providing food. 3, To strengthen their faith in the reality of His kingdom, and the permanence of His truth 4 And to reinstate the fallen Peter in the work and honors of the Apostleship. What, we now inquire, is the significance of his act in relation to our spiritual condition. We have an interest in that morning scene at Gennesaret. Jesus stood there tor us, as well as for his disciples He teaches us by what be there did, his readiness to meet our necessities, to reveal himself to us and gran t us his aid. We are out on the sea of mystery. Shadows hang over us, darkening our views of God concealing the hand of Providence, rendering our ideas of Lie mazy and uncertain. We wonder St the failures, the conflicts, the moral resistances of life , ere seems to be a want of harmony between the character of God and the conditions of our beinv— between instrumentality and its results. Thimr.sare not what we would suppose; what, in our judvmeni they oujht to be, in a worid governed by fr& benevolence and power. The innocent suffer the guilty escape; justice is set aside, and mi»ht tram ples on goodness. stands on the shore He is ‘7' for him eV< tr r Vr An 8 Were created him and for him. His life is the standard of judgment He came to harmonize the discords of the wmrid He has brought in everlasting righteousness TW conquest of sin he strikes at the root of all evfi —the source of all disorder. In him the tr,Vo i Ho"yGod eS H7- th r 7 io ” ° f fallen with the Holy God. He is God manifest in the flesh; He is n an reveaimg God-the. Mediator in whom wffiVd our lost Father, and realize our restored childhood And when once our way is retraced to Sm all things and agencies fall into concord, and work ou; their legitimate/ends. . , s,i Tr- ~ Christ is the Sum of Justice — the Light OJ lhe It oral. If we behold the universe in His light, tune and man, providence and society, good and evil, life and death —all are lighted up gloriously: the shadows fly. the discord dies, and a divine harmony runs through the ages! We feel our union with Cod, and are persuaded that “He will subdue all things unto himself.” When, therefore, your spirits are perplexed with the mystery ol life, when the waves of uncertainty toss your souls; when “deep calleth unto deep”—the “deep” within you to the “deep" of Nature and of Providence —forget not that Jesus stands on the shore, to reveal the universe and the God of the universe. His life is the key ot the great book of Providence. Take it, study it, believe it: and “you shall know if you follow on to know the Lord.” Over the depths of your mental and moral night,like themorningwhich broke overGennesaret, lighting up its bosom with glory and filling its air wTth song, shall stream the effulgence of Christ, waking your spirit to rapture, and tuning all its passions to melody 1 Your life is fraugh t with trial and calarn i ty. You are tossed-on 5 billows of sorrow. The storm beats on you. Night gathers thick about you. Friends fail; wealth flies from your grasp; your children rush into habits of sin, or are taken prematurely from the world; your reputation is. blasted. Yon are cas't bereft and helpless on the tide. Nature is dark; Providence seems conflicting; you are in the war of elements, all whose forces blaze and thunder on yonr head. Your great hope goes down in the darkness and strife, like a laden ship smitten by the tempest,—like a planet burning to ashes in the fir mament. Jesus stands on the shore. He observes you in your night ofsorrow. He sees how the storms toss you; how your heart sinks; how your hope trembles and fails. He bids you fear not. He says Come unto me !” —through the waves. The floods of tribulation are the highway of your access to bint. In his arms may you hide yourself, till these calam ities be past. Are you oppressed by a sense of personal sin? Do the billows of wrath roll beneath you, while you see no way of escape? The law frowns, and justice threatens, conscience accuses, the past utters con demnations, the future takes up the note of woe, and rolls it on through eternity. What can yon do? “ Jesus stands on the shore.” U'e has died for you, and risen for you. He has blotted out the past. Justice accepts His offering. He has taken your place. You may now take Jiis -place. Go to him as Peter did. Plunge into the sea, and you shall find yourself in the embrace of everlasting mercy! Have you denied your Lord, and lost the sense ot His favor? Have you been timid and faithless? Have you brouglit-reproach on His Church ? Have you wounded Him in the house of His friends? Have you been profane and worldly ? And are you now penitent? Do you rebuke yourself for the evil you have done?—-for the spirit you have cherished? Would you return to your first love, and live for ever as the servant and the child of your patient and for giving Lord? Lo he stands on the shore, ready to reinstate you. He says“'Return unto me, and 1 will return unto you.”- “ How shall I give thee up, Ephraim?—how shall I deliver thee, Israel? My' heart is turned within me! My repentings are kin dled together 1” “O Israel! thou hast destroyed thyself; but in mg'is thy help.” “Solonhath desired to have thee and sift thee as' wheat. But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail hot.” Finally, do you fear to die? Thalia a trying hour to the best of us. It is not a slight matter to stand on the border-line of life; to look back on all its ac tivities, pleasures, friendships and.possessions as no longer ours; to see all'that we Ipve and glory in, receding into eternal distance; to gaze down into the abyss of the untried hereafler; to find ourselves step ping off into the mystery of spirits, into the presence of the Almighty—before the High Court of the Universe. How can the soul meet this new, and strange, and-dreadful-existence? How trust iLeif to the dark river which flows between us and the eternal realm? Jesus stands on the shore. rr.. ear n™ saying:—’“I am the resurrection and the ife. He that believeth in me shall never die.” because 1 live, ye shall live also.” May we not, dear brethren', behold Jesus here to-day—meeting us as we come hither from themvs tenous whirl °/ Me, from the scenes of our .conflicts, and griefs and sins, saying to us, “Partake of my feast. ? Are you troubled by the mysteries of Provi dence? Come to me for light. 'Have you deep wants, which earth and time cannot satisfy? Take the fulness which I offer. Haveyou sorrows which no friendship, nor sympathy of man can assuage? wf lendsll, P and be ba PP7- Have you shis I 3 ™' l - Wash a f a f> n o prayers ran ban ish, I take your sins, and blot them out for ever! I invest you with life eternal. I seem to see far off in the thick darkness far and o Kahn;nc ean 71 ‘‘t’ ' Va “ derer from home ih bitff n He iOTCd not Ms Father’s house. He broke from the restraints, of love. He lost the attractions of vn-tne. He has no sympathy from drlfted oa the t'de of temptation; is caught by the current, and borne beyond the li<4ts of the harbor beyond the voices of loving and sorrowing are'hicji while tlie breaker « and t™ . - WHI TlP**' and the sails srar Jw&rtfE is wrecked and murdered. Oh that ho 680 , , h.“ sswst as&'jg* l and winds cease, and the light of home God' T* 1 ' ** -stream on the welcome prodigal * A BEAUTIFUL SLUTIMEUT. melted la ' “Life bears us on lit* mighty z'iver Om* e stream of a the mighty channel—thrOTwh^ht^]* lo^ murmurings of the little WL , p l )!a -> rful -icings <?f its gttsy boraeS , ° k Ti J :i ICI I tho shed their blossoms uuluels - Ihe trees the flowers seem to oS'th” heads i rou.gh.nd,, * toth i grasp ean-erlvat tho ho m hope, and the ehcam Liit onTur "?““ d b “ are empty. Our course • our hands hood is along a deo ° ln T ou th and man amongob ecto mnlT-V^ nd wider flood cent. We are animated trthe 1111 “ a^ nifi ‘ tores and enjoyment at , thc moymg pie as; we are exeitod n? d lndustl y aU around appointment ' Tho ct somo short-lived dis ourjoys and on > and as. We mav ■ 8 are , adco left behind not be delayed - whp?i"" VCeked ’ but can the riyer hastenson tilH'lm'S-of tlf" 100115 ’ is m our ears nnri : e f oa \°t the ocean is beneath our feet and* th ° waveB ap around uTtS £ tv® flGods are lifted and its inhabitants 7! C<3 oUJ ‘l 6ave of earth age there is rro wit’ UUtd ° ul ' fature voy- Etebnal save and
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers