word of life, and what they received lovingly they examined diligently. The symptoms that preceded and portended the revival were, A bent of mind toward the preached word, and a daily reverent searching of the Scriptures. When we see the same symptoms in any place, we may confidently expect a similar enlarge ment. Interesting and instructive is the specific enumeration of classes that were on that occasion won to the Lord, "both of Greek women of good station and of men not a few." Four distinct characteristics of the persons who were converted at that time in Berea have been counted worthy of a place in the record, and should therefore be counted worthy of our special study. 1. Greeks were converted. There is no respect of persons with God; all are in his sight equally lost in sin, and all are alike precious when redeemed. Expressly in Christ's kingdom there is neither Jew nor Greek. Yet circumstances may be such that the conversion of a Greek gives more joy to an apostle's heart, and does more for the spread of the kingdom, than the conversion of a Jew. As a rule, the first converts in every city had hitherto been of the seed of Israel. But Paul and his companions, although they began their work in the synagogue, were aware that their mission was to the world; they rejoiced accordingly with a peculiar delight over the first-fruits of the Gentiles. These Greeks who believed in Berea were in themselves precisely as precious as the same number of Jews, and no more; but over and above the worth of individual souls, their conversion opened a door by which the gospel might enter a new and spacious field. This, to the weary labourers, was like the breaking forth of waters. The barrier at one spot had given way, and a gap was formed in the dyke by which the tide might enter and inundate the land. To the apostles those successes were sweetest which seemed earnests and promises of more. 2. Both men and women. God made them in marvellous wisdom for each other; together they have gone away from him; it is a gladsome sight when they return in company. It is sad when the sexes are separated by that partition which divides the kingdom of God from the world lying in wickedness-separated so that while the one stands safe within the narrow gate, the other is still groping blindfold against the blank wall on its outer side. The separation takes place on both sides. There is not favour to one and frown to another. As there is neither Jew nor Greek, so there is neither male nor female, for partiality to one or another in the kingdom of Christ. Sometimes the husband or brother truly seeks and finds the kingdom of God and his righteousness, while the wife or sister seems content to abide by the stuff of this world as the soul's portion. The cares of this life frequently become the specific means whereby the spiritual life is overlaid and smothered in the mothers and daughters of a house. On the other hand, sometimes the women of a family are devoted to Christ, while the men are too philosophic or too self-indulgent to be troubled with spiritual anxieties. Husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, sons and mothers, come all, and come in company, to Christ. Be heirs together of the grace of life-helps-meet in the rugged path-brothers and sisters in the whole family of God-entrants together into the joy of the Lord. 3. People of high standing, respectable people, were converted. And is there any peculiar ground for gladness there? Are the upper ten thousand more precious in God's sight than the myriads who occupy a lower place? No; this word comes from heaven, and does not shape itself by the fashion of the world. But though poor and rich are equally precious, there are times and circumstances in which conversion in high places is more noted and more noteworthy than conversion in a low place. If for nothing else, the early disciples valued it as men value certain gems, on account of its rarity. The common people heard the Master gladly, but the rulers held aloof and boasted that they were not tinged with any trust in Jesus of Nazareth. On that very account there was great joy in the circle of the disciples when a magnate joined their band. Even the Lord longed to have some of them, and looked fondly on the young rich man who came running and kneeling and calling him Master. Another reason why people of high station are warmly welcomed into the company of Christians is, that their influence is greater; and so, when their talents are consecrated to the Lord, a larger gain accrues to the kingdom. If you looked from aloft upon a dry and parched land, you would be glad to see a well rising even on its lowest place; but you would be gladder if you saw a spring leaping from the ground on its loftiest ridges, for, from its position, it could be employed to irrigate a larger portion of the land. Great temptations beset the wealthy and noble; the cords that bind them to the world are very strong; a louder song of praise, therefore, bursts from the lips of the free when one of these is liberated. It is more glory to the Lord, and greater gain to his cause in the world. 4. Many were converted. The emphatic phrase is, "Not a few." There is a strange appetite for more in a Christian's heart. It continually cries "Give, give.” That cry is never silenced, that appetite never satiated, till the whole world is won. This feature of a Christian's new nature is inherited from Christ. He opened his mouth wide for the food which he loved. When many came and followed him, he continued to invite the rest as eagerly. When his ministry was nearly finished he wept in agony over Jerusalem, because few of its teeming multitude would accept pardon and eternal life at his hand. There is a species of liberality in vogue at present which denounces indiscriminately all proselytism. It is quite true, we confess, that much impure zeal has been exhibited in the name of Christ. Woe to those, what ever name they assume, who compass sea and land to make a proselyte, and, when they have got him, steep him deeper in the same uncharitable fanaticism that gives energy to their own efforts. There is an evil proselytism, even as there is a spirit of darkness who assumes the robes of an angel of light. Every case must be judged on its own merits: it is irrational to denounce all proselytizing indiscriminately. There will, and should, and must be a proselytizing spirit in every true Christian. What do men mean by condemning it in the lump? Jesus Christ was a proselytizer, and all are like him whom he has innoculated with his love. XX. PAUL'S ARRIVAL AT ATHENS. ACTS xvii. 13–16. BEREA seems a very paradise for these missionary men. There was eager attention to the gospel; there were many conversions, and as yet there was no sign of any persecution springing up. But the persecution that did not spring on the spot was imported from a distance. "When the Jews of Thessalonica had knowledge that the word of God was preached of Paul at Berea, they came thither also and stirred up the people." The place was soon made too hot for Paul. As being manifestly the chief, he was more obnoxious than his two younger associates; for when it was found necessary to hurry him off from the place to preserve his life, Timothy and Silas ventured to remain behind to carry on the work which had been so hopefully begun. The brethren sent away Paul to go, as it were, to the sea. It has been generally thought that strategem was employed here; that they started in the direction of the sea-coast, to lead the persecutors on a false scent, and afterwards took the road to Athens. But it is more probable that the transaction was simpler. As there is no mention of any place on the way between Berea and Athens, there is some ground to infer that the journey was not made by land; that they embarked at Dium, near the base of Olympus, and landed at the Piræus. In the circumstances it is probable that the route and the destination were not determined until they were far on the way. When they left Berea there was no time to consider their course. The thing that pressed was to get Paul away from a place of danger; out of Berea with all haste for the missionary's life, and when we are at a safe distance we shall consider where we shall go next. Paul seems on this occasion to have been passive in the hands of his friends. They who lived in the country knew best both the danger that threatened and the means of escape. They will manage the whole business. The journey to Athens was no plan of his. "They that conducted him brought him to Athens." Arrived at this celebrated city, Paul seems to have taken the measure of it at the first glance. Before his conductors had left him to return to their home, he had made up his mind and determined the plan of the campaign. Im view of Athens, Berea diminished in importance as a mission field. He had left Timothy and Silas there; but as soon as he saw Athens, he sent a message back with the returning escort, requesting his associates to join him without delay. Those two labourers were digging a well on the spot where he left them-digging a well, and getting waterthe water of life, to refresh a parched neighbourhood; but he hesitates not to call them away from their work; for the well that they were digging was in the lowly plain, and though they obtained sweet water there, that water could not flow far for the benefit of others. Here, however, and now, Paul had discovered a spot on an exceeding high mountain, where a well might be hopefully pierced, and if they should obtain water there, it would, in virtue of the height of its site, flow far and wide over the nations. Accordingly this master-workman recalls his hands from the successful but less important mission in Berea, that they might strike home for the Lord in the very heart and head of the civilized world. The plan was that Paul should wait at Athens till his associates arrived, and that then they should begin the work in company. It is not easy for a solitary missionary to begin alone in the high places of the earth to bear a testimony for God. Poor Jonah was so overwhelmed by the prospect of standing unsupported in Nineveh to denounce God's judgments against the people's sin, that he rebelled and ran away that he might escape the hard and scathing ordeal. As Jonah at Nineveh, crying out, Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be destroyed-as Jonab at Nineveh was Paul at Athens, proclaiming Jesus and the resurrection. It is too much for one man alone to dare and do. He will await in silence the arrival of his friends, and then, shoulder to shoulder, three stronger than one, they will stand, and stand up for the Lord, and stand fast against the adversary. Bid them come both and come quickly, said the eager, impetuous apostle to his escort, as they turned to retrace their steps toward Berea; "and receiving a commandment unto Silas and Timotheus, for to come to him with all speed, they departed." Away went the escort out of his sight, and Paul began his part of the programme—that is, to wait. He waited at Athens till Timothy and Silas should arrive. But ah! this is not a man of the waiting kind. He had undertaken more than he could perform. The spirit of the prophet was not subject to the prophet. Paul was not a good waiter, and Athens was not the place for Paul to wait idle in. It was hard to begin alone his testimony for Jesus in that Greek capital, and therefore he laid the plan of obtaining associates; but it was harder to look on in silence where Satan had his seat, and therefore he broke through the plan that he had laid. He burst through all bonds and began. "Now while Paul waited for them at Athens, his spirit was stirred in him, when he saw the city wholly given to idolatry. Therefore disputed he," &c. He saw the city given over to idolatry; and felt a stirring, a thrilling through his soul, like the vibrations of a harp when the wind breathes on its strings. Not only were these two connected in point of time; they were connected as cause and effect. The sight which he saw without, caused the emotion that he experienced within. The idolatry of the city kindled this missionary's soul into a paroxysm of holy zeal which could not be restrained. Two things are observable and memorable in connection with what Paul saw in Athens-two things very needful and very profitable to supply us with fixed foundation principles of action in these latter days. First, this great and true man-this real philosopher, who both feared God and regarded man, was arrested and transfixed by the idols of Athens, so that he noticed not or regarded little the many other sights which the city contained. This intellectual capital of Greece presented in those days many attractions to men of cultivated taste; and Paul's taste was cultivated. It was not that he valued marble statues less, but living men more. He was not blind to the beauties of Greek architecture, or deaf to the music of the Greek tongue; but he felt the expulsive power of a deeper affection, that occupied his heart, and drove its rivals from the field. Ah! he is not the weak but the strong man who regards immortal souls as transcendently more important than fine arts. This man is not carried away by vanities, but governed by sound reason. Accordingly, he scarcely observes the curiosities that strangers went to see in Athens; he was taken up with that which obtruded itself on the traveller's eye at the corner of every street -idols, idols everywhere; and living men boasting themselves to be God's offspring, bowing down before images of wood and stone, graven by art and man's device. Another thing observable in the missionary's view is, that he considered the idolatry of the Athenians to be a grave and grievous thing. This is not one of those frivolous travellers who think idolatrous rites very picturesque, and very becoming, and very harmless. We have fallen upon an age when shallow men, in order to prove themselves deep, count it needful to laud the interesting and innocent religious ceremonies of the heathen on their native soil, and to deprecate Christian missionaries as intruders, who make the people worse. A sort of crusade is at the present time waged against Christian missions by a section of the students of philosophy and nature. It cannot deal heavy blows, or continue long to deal any blows at all; for it is false in its facts, and unphilosophically presumptuous in its pretensions. But, meantime, observe how this great and strong man regarded the matter. Idolatry was in his sight the height of all abomination. It was dishonour done to the living God, and degradation to intelligent human souls. It was, moreover, the fruitful parent of all vice. The law of God is a living and eternal thing. The law, like Christ, is not divided so that a man can take a part, and neglect the rest. The second table hangs dependent on the first. When the soul is debauched by the worship of a false God, the body is abandoned to every species of corruption (Rom. i.) XXL A CITY GIVEN TO IDOLATRY. THE city was wholly given to idolatry-full of idols. There is historical confirmation of the description from many sources. In the public opinion of those days Athens was considered to be supereminently a city of idols. Art had attained a higher state of perfection there than elsewhere. Their architecture and sculpture were not equalled in that day-have perhaps not been equalled in our day. This pre-eminence in art, in connection with the exquisite taste which was a general characteristic of the people, greatly increased the public zeal in the worship of idols. When fine art, of the highest order of excellence, is consecrated to a false and sensual worship, it exerts a great power for evil. Modern Rome is in this respect like ancient Athens. The idolatry of the Papacy is fostered by the fine arts, especially music and painting. Art has been the sword-arm of Rome for modern conquests. In this country of late years Popery has made little progress, except among the ranks of the aristocracy. It is especially among the classes whose education lies more in æsthetics than in thought that converts have been won. As in ancient Athens, the imagination is captivated by voluptuous art; and when the spirit is thus enslaved, it may be led over into the coarsest idolatry! This intoxication of the soul is not unlike the intoxication of the body, whether you look to its soft, gradual approaches-or to the giddy, swimming pleasure to which the captive abandons himself-or to the abject degradation to which the intoxicated submits when he is given over to the mysterious witchcraft. What emotion did the sight of Athenian idolatry excite in the missionary's breast! His spirit was stirred in him. A fire was kindled that would have consumed the man if it had been pent up. Allowed to get vent, it blazed forth, and precipitated him with all his force alone against the world. It is worthy of notice here, however, that it is not every human spirit that is kindled into a godly zeal by the sight of a neighbour's sins or sorrows. This same Saul was not always so tenderly susceptible. His heart had once lain still without a flutter within his iron bosom, when the blood of the martyr Stephen was shed, and the clothes of the murderers lay at his feet. The martyr's eyes were raised to heaven in his sight, and a light from God's countenance made his face to shine like an angel's before the time; the martyr's last prayer was uttered, and its gentle accents fell on the persecutor's ear-"Lord, lay not this sin to their charge;" but Saul of Tarsus felt no pity thrilling in his cold heartno shudder of remorse trembling in his callous soul. Hard and dull and blunt as the nether millstone his spirit remained under the most melting sights and sounds that can fall on human sense. A great change had passed on Paul between the time when he saw unmoved Christ's first witness die, and the time when the sight of Athenian idolatry lighted a flame of godly jealousy in his breast, and threw him headlong on the god of this world, at the spot where he was covered with all his panoply. Now Paul was himself redeemed, and it grieved him to see a brother lying under condemnation. Now he was himself delivered from the power of Satan, and he could not bear to see silly birds going blindfold into the fowler's snare. This is the rule: it is when we have ourselves been brought out of darkness that rivers of water will run down our eyes because men keep not God's law. It is at Christ's love to us that our hearts take fire for other men. cellence does not seem to lie within reach of those who assume to lead opinion in these days. Some may be disposed to congratulate themselves that although the Athenian lightness be rife, yet the Athenian idolatry that grieved Paul does not venture to rear its head in Christendom. Even this comfort does not rightly belong to us. Without taking into account the Romish image-worship, which, in this country at least, is mainly confined to churches, and is not often obtruded before the public, idolatry in another form is rampant; for "covetousness is idolatry." The old Greeks, like the modern Asiatics, worshipped with bended knee the idols that were made of gold: we worship in our hearts the gold of which their idols were made. The various vices that ravage our cities, if not in themselves more hideous than those that greeted the apostle's eye in Athens, are fitted to stir into greater keenness the compassion of an observer, because they display their vileness in presence of a brighter and holier light than that of Greek philosophy. Considering our privileges and attainments, I suspect there is mcre to make an apostle shudder in Edinburgh and London than there was in Athens and Rome. Oh, it is pitiful, that near a whole cityful of comfortable christianized idolatry of Athens fired the heart of Paul. A light | inhabitants, so many wretches in human form should be and frivolous spirit is abroad-altogether Athenian-permitted to torment and destroy themselves and one which seems to be rendering the generation incapable of earnest moral purpose, or self-sacrifice for noble ends. There is an impatience of the sober, the real, and the true, with a corresponding chase after the new, the exciting, the fictitious. We have indeed some use for the men who lived great lives and died great deaths for God and man on our own soil in a former age; for we gather scraps of their weakness from history wherewith to adorn our tales; but true appreciation of their ex Although the state of society is greatly advanced in our land and day, yet sights may be seen amongst us that should fire the heart of the observer as much as the another by open, organized, wholesale vice and crime. For dealing effectually with the plague-spots of the land and the plague-stricken of the people, we have already means and machinery in abundance. What is wanted is a great fire of love in human hearts to set the apparatus in motion. We have good meaning, but little might. We have principle already; it is passion that we want,-passion such as burned in the heart of Paul when he looked on the idolatry of Athens. * It is related of the Emperor Constantinus, that on the eve of an important battle he beheld a flaming fiery Cross in the sky, bearing an inscription in Greek, meaning, "By this conquer;" and that the morrow's victory persuaded him to become a Christian. " The Children's Treasury. THE CROWN OF GLORY. A Tale of Missions in Olden Times. BY THE AUTHOR OF "LITTLE SNOWDROP." CHAPTER X. MISTRESS MAUDE. Quiet talk she liketh best In a bower of gentle looks, 66 And her smile it seems half holy, As if drawn from thoughts more far Than our common jestings are." JULY sunset was crimsoning the sky, dark purple cloudlets fringed with gold were gathering on the western horizon, waiting to do homage to the orb of day as he sank to rest, when we once more take a peep at Dunmore Castle, where evidently some slight excitement is going on. Three years have elapsed since the time we first took a glance into that castle on a misty autumn day. Once more a party are collected in the court, anxiously looking out for some expected one. The gateway is open, the drawbridge down; so friends, not foes, are coming. The Lady Louise is among the group, not a bit less girlish like than when we saw her first. She is looking radiant with delight, turning every now and then to a tall, strikingly handsome youth, who stands beside her, holding by the hand a miniature Lady Louise, in the shape of little Marie, now a child of nearly four years. "David," the lady was saying, "is not yon the cavalcade? Look! your eyes see further than mine. Oh, I am sure 'tis so. And only think how glad Maude will be to see us all again, quite four years since she has been home. Won't she admire him, le beau garçon!" she said, holding up a fine chubby baby of some eight months old; "and Marie, and you, Davie; why, she'll hardly believe you were as ill as we told her. He looks strong, almost strong, Sir Thomas, does he not?" she said, appealing abruptly to the tutor, who stood near. A look of pain involuntarily crossed the kind man's countenance, as he looked at the lad and said: "Master Davie is wonderfully better, my lady, wonderfully so; let us hope some day he may get strong. But we must not be disappointed if Mistress Maude thinks otherwise; he was a strong healthy boy when she left, not a tall stripling like this," he said, laying his hand kindly on the lad's shoulder. Yes, to no eye, save the fond blind one of affection, had Davie Dunmore any signs of strength. The deli- | cate changing complexion, the brilliant yet sunken eyes, the ofttimes constant cough, told too plainly of disease, overcome, perhaps, for a while, but deep-rooted still. And he knew it; but the thought was no longer fraught with dismay. The future before him no longer stretched out gray and desolate, for a bright light illumed it, and to Davie Dunmore the unknown world beyond death was now thought of only as his "Father's home." But he was better, and glad and thankful to be so; once more to breathe the fresh air, and lie under leafy trees, watching the play of the leaves, and Not the life he had chalked out to himself of activity and energy; not the life any would perchance choose for themselves; yet one appointed in love to many weak suffering ones, as for them the right though painful way to the city of habitation. And Davie had found restthe "Peace, be still!" had been heard at length, and Le had become a soldier in the noblest of all strifes, with the base and wrong in himself and in those around him fighting the battles under the Captain of his salvation, Jesus Christ. To him the thought of once more seeing his loved sister was a mingled emotion. How would he feel now, to think she shared not his faith, knew not his Saviour, and still bent the knee to images, and called for aid on saints and Virgin, whose help could avail her nothing? Would it be given him to be allowed to lead her to the Fountain of life, or might she not draw him back once more to those things? At the bare thought he shuddered, and repeated the words read to him by the Bohemian doctor-"My grace is sufficient for thee; my strength is made perfect in weakness.” And what of young Miretown? he asked himself. That he had learned to love the true Evangel was well known, and would he feel himself bound to become united for life to one who knew not the truth? Some such thoughts were passing through the lad's mind when his mother's words roused him. "Ah, yes," he exclaimed, "sure enough 'tis the cavalcade.-Lyndsay! Carstairs!" he called out, with somewhat of his old energy, "make ready your bugles to sound a welcome.-And now, Elspet," he said, turning to an elderly woman who stood near, "take Marie under your wing, so that I may be free to embrace my sister; though I do believe she'll be far more anxious to see her old nurse than her wild brother." |