CHAPTER III.

RELIGION IN THE WORKSHOP.

There is no error in religion more common or more deadly, than to

put the means for the end. So rarely does man regard aright the

great object of the soul's pursuit, that he is ready to repose

supinely upon something done, without ever solemnly inquiring

whether he has reached the right result by doing it, or only been

deceived by a semblance and a form.--We read the Word of God, and

think that it can accomplish what only He of whom it tells can

achieve. We hold certain doctrines, and because we hold them firmly,

we hasten to the conclusion that we actually possess the blessings

which these doctrines reveal or imply. Or finally, the intellect of

some is filled with truth in its loftiest forms; but there it lies,

exercising no influence upon the life. It quiets the conscience,

but it does not sanctify the soul; and the anomaly of a spiritual

creed side by side with a carnal life is thus frequently found among

men--the worst of all heresies, the most deadly of all deceptions, a

repetition of Chorazin and Bethsaida.

THE CHIEF END OF REVELATION.

Now, it can never be made too plain that revelation, with all that

is glorious in it, is only a means to an end. Even the death of

Christ, solitary as it stands in its moral grandeur, among the

events of the universe, was only a means--the end was /God's glory

in man's holiness/. To bring a clean thing out of an unclean; to

transmute enmity against God into love to him, or wounds and bruises

and noisome sores into the beauty of holiness--behold the grand

result aimed at alike in the life and the death of the Son of God.

By dying he did accomplish other results, and the influence of that

death is felt to the utmost verge of creation, as we know it is

felt among the angels on high. But still it is the /grand result/

we should ever aim at, and that is, deliverance from sin in its

condemnation, its pollution, and its power: "This is the will of

God, even our holiness."

THE CHRISTIAN WORKMAN.

Now, this simple truth may serve as a guide or an ally in every

sphere of life, but specially so in that sphere which we are now to

contemplate, or the Bible in the Workshop. And an incident recorded

in the Christian Scriptures will at once shed light upon the subject.

On more than one occasion the apostle Paul had to work with his

hands to earn his daily bread.[14] Though the care of all the

churches was upon him; though the enmity of the prejudiced, and

the persecution of those who had the power, tried to bear him down,

he was yet amid it all, a man of handicraft and hard labour--he

could sit down with Aquila in his workshop, and there engage in

manual labour for his livelihood, with all the zeal of his noble

and indomitable nature. He at least was not one of those who think

that idleness and indolence can dignify man's position. He was not

one of those who would deem themselves degraded by being useful. He

knew that man is born under a decree to work. He therefore wrought;

and just as this man of God, when it was his duty, put forth all

the powers of his intellect and soul in reasoning before Festus, or

Felix, or King Agrippa, did he put forth the powers of his body in

making tents in the workshop of his friend at Corinth. Enough for

Paul, if he was where the Lord wished him to be, or engaged in

what the Lord gave him to do; and without one feeling either of

degradation or of discontent, he bore the toils of the body as well

as exerted the activities of the mind; he both taught and practised

the lesson, "If any man will not work, neither shall he eat." He

felt that every man must be a worker, either with mind, or body, or

both. The last was his alternative; and we know that in some cases

the night was added to the day, ere he could complete his allotted

task. Sinew, and muscle, and bone, in Paul's case, were dedicated

to the service of God, as well as a mental power which could not

be gainsaid, except by the bigot's ever ready argument--the dungeon,

the chain, or death.

A WORKSHOP--

With this high model in view, then, let us now enter a workshop,

and accost some of those who are there. Our object is to show how

the Bible should preside among them, to protect the character from

pollution--the soul from peril. Remembering that Christian worth

does not depend on lofty birth or brilliant powers, but on a heart

right with God, and his long-lost image restored to the soul,

consider how that image may become more and more vivid, if it be

indeed stamped on us by the Spirit.

ITS OCCUPANTS.

And, first, not a few of those with whom we associate in the

workshop, are snares to the soul of the very direst kind. We

find that infidelity which is often the result of utter ignorance,

there rampant and rife. We often see vice rioting in the life, and

shutting the heart against the truth. A soul in which religion is

felt and loved, will hear what it deems sacred blasphemed, and in

self-defence, it may be constrained to contend for the faith once

delivered to the saints. Some of those who are thus tried can tell

of the mental anguish to which they are exposed--of the snares which

are laid for them on the right hand and on the left--the heroism

which is needed to contend, perhaps single-handed, against a crowd

of gainsayers, who know of no pleasure but the pleasures of sin,

or care for no truth but such as relates to gross and material

things. As the body is oppressed and dies amid mephitic vapours,

the soul grows sick and like to die amid scenes like these. It

has to maintain a constant struggle for existence, as the natives

of some portions of India maintain a constant warfare with the

inhabitants of the jungle--the boa, the lion, or the tiger. Men

long neglected by those who should have consulted for their better

interests; men long viewed as only so much animal machinery, to be

used as long as it can drudge, and then heartlessly cast aside; men

long treated as if they had neither souls to save, nor an eternity

to provide for, have too often sunk so far that they threaten to

take revenge upon society, by trampling out every vestige of truth

that can be found in the places of their exhaustion and toil.

Now, amid perils like these, surely the man who cares for his soul

has just the more need to cleave close to the only power which

can give him the victory--and that power is Christ. Every ungodly

gainsayer should be to that man an object of pity, like that of

the Redeemer to our fallen world. Every blasphemer, every infidel,

every man who has given himself up to the slavery of passion, and

dethroned at once his reason and his God, should be an object of

tender compassion to the soul of the Christian beside him. While

sporting with their own ruin, such men should be like another, and

another, and another call to all who know the truth, to show by

their life at least, what a Christian, or what Christianity is--how

true it is that

"We can make our lives sublime,

And departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time;"

and the following counsels may help some earnest spirit in that

arduous work.

THE SABBATH-DAY.

I.[*5] The most godly occupant of a workshop will be the least

surprised to hear us say, Next to the Bible, prize the Sabbath-day,

and let no man rob you of its sacred rest. You will thus find it a

tower of strength to the soul.

While we look around us, we everywhere see the blessed results of

the Sabbath rest when properly employed, the woeful consequences

of its sacred hours encroached on, whether by the drudgery of toil

or the debasement of licentiousness. See that home where domestic

comfort dwells, where well-ordered decorum reigns, and where the

parent and the child have alike their part assigned to them from day

to day. Be sure that the Sabbath is there observed; the very peace

which prevails around you in that abode, is a portion of the Sabbath

itself spread over the week.[15]

But see that other home where squalid wretchedness, perhaps unholy

riot, reigns. See children neglected, see character lost, see

poverty bringing woe in its train--a woe which is gradually rising

like an ingulfing[*6] tide upon the inmates, till at last they are

steeped to the lip in misery. See a wife worse than widowed amid the

brutalities of that home; or, more degrading still, see her uniting

with her guilty partner in godless revelry, till, like the meeting

of fires, the two together waste and consume every vestige of

what is pure, and lovely, and of good report. Now, while you gaze

upon that scene, be sure that the sacred hours of the Sabbath are

disallowed[*7] there; they are squandered in licentiousness, and

perverted into the means of ruin. In brief, the Sabbath is there

trodden under foot. The ungodliness of the week grows deeper and

darker on the Lord's own day, because the abuse of the best things

turns them into the worst; and accumulated crime, like a swollen

river, sweeps the inmates at last, some to prison, some to an

hospital, some to exile, some to death.

GALILEO'S FIRMNESS.

And these, and a thousand similar cases, warn us in the workshop to

prize the day of rest. It frees the sons and daughters of toil for

a little from the burdens of earth. It braces their mind for the

struggle with sin throughout the week. It enables them to clothe

themselves with the armour of righteousness on the right hand and

on the left. It affords an opportunity for anchoring the soul to the

Rock of Ages. If employed as it ought to be, that day, which is not

ours, but the Lord's, who claims a seventh portion of our time as

peculiarly his own, will arm the mind for meekly but resolutely

putting away at once the wiles and the assaults of the godless. "I

know in whom I have believed," may be the reply of the godly artizan

to all the gainsayers; and he may thus proceed upon his way as

a believer, as unmoved either by the scorn or the assault of the

infidel or the licentious, as Galileo was unshaken amid all the

persecutions of popery, when he told the world the true theory of

the skies. In a word, with the Bible open before us, and the mind

of God for our standard there, he is at once the strongest and the

happiest Christian who has best learned to practise what John taught

by his example, "I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day."

THE CHURCH OF THE OUTCAST.

Now, we put that counsel first, because unless it be religiously

acted on, all else will be vain. At the same time, we are now in

circumstances for putting this matter to a practical proof upon a

large scale. In various cities of the empire, there are churches

formed well-nigh exclusively of those who, a few years ago, had no

man who cared for their souls, and who had not learned to care for

themselves. They were therefore, familiar with sin. It was their

sport, or rather their daily work, to do mischief. Some of them

were at once corrupt and corrupting. But out of these very souls

there have been formed the goodly spectacle of earnest worshippers,

counted by hundreds, and characterized by all the aspects of

devoutness.

And, what is it that has achieved these results? How does it happen

that instead of the thorn the fir-tree has come up; instead of the

brier, the myrtle? and how does the desert blossom as the rose? Who

will hesitate to reply, that had it not been for the Sabbath, with

all that is blessed and all that is hallowing in its exercises, such

effects could never have been produced? From day to day, nay, from

hour to hour, pains and prayer were needed. From hour to hour, the

men of faith who put their hands to that work, had to depend on the

blessing which comes from God only. But these blessings came in rich

abundance on the Lord's own day; and now it can be said of this man

and that man, formerly an outcast from the decencies of life, that

he is born of the Spirit, clothed and in his right mind, by the

Spirit's blessing on his truth proclaimed. In the light of eternity,

such men are ennobled.

TRUE NOBILITY.

Now, what raised them from their degradation, is yet more able to

keep us from falling; and sure we are, that were there but one man

in a workshop who knew how to prize and profit by the Lord's day,

he could, single-handed, keep his ground at once against taunts,

against malice, and against all persecution. On that day our God

leads us, if we will let him, into his pavilion; He teaches us

where to hide from "the strife of tongues," and it is thus that

true nobility is imparted even to him

"Who ploughs with pain his native lea,

And reaps the labour of his hands."

II. Where it is our daily business to earn our bread by the

sweat of our brows in the workshop, it should be one of our first

and most resolute endeavours, to make sure that the truth which

Jesus brought from heaven to earth is deeply planted in our hearts

and souls.--There are tender plants which thrive and bloom, or bear

luxuriant fruit, if sheltered well, but which wither and die if

exposed to the biting blast for a night; and there is a parallel

to that in religion. In kindly or in genial exposures it may thrive,

and put forth its blossoms or bear fruit; but in many a workshop it

is exposed to the rudest blasts that blow.

INFIDELITY--

One would try to crush it; he hates it because it will not let him

sin. Like that profligate man who wished Keith's Evidences from

Prophecy destroyed, "because they were so convincing;" many cry,

Away with the Word of God, for the same reason that the Jews cried,

Away, away with the Son of God--because it rebukes their iniquity.

ITS ROOT.

And another wishes the Word of God put down, because he remembers

its effects upon his soul in earlier years, when a godly parent

tried to impress it on the conscience and the heart. He has now

cast these instructions behind his back. He has learned to sin with

a high hand; and as the sight or the sounds of the truth re-awaken

his old concern, he is eager to drive it from his presence. The very

sight is a sting to his conscience. A single clause may be like a

death-knell, and that man hates it with a perfect hatred. That is

the root of much of the infidelity which is now so rife--not the

want of proof, but the evil heart of unbelief; not mere ignorance,

but the preference of sin to holiness.

Or a third among our fellow-workmen may be one who has known

some signal hypocrite. That pretender sought, perhaps, to promote

some sinister object by a religious profession. Perhaps he prayed;

perhaps he was a reprover of other men's sins; perhaps he was an

eager advocate for sound doctrine, and would endure no departure

from it--yet, after all, he may be unmasked as a mere pretender. It

may be discovered at length that he was all the while living in sin,

concealed, but long continued, such as to indicate that his religion

was a pretence, and his strictness that of a Pharisee. Now, having

discovered the hollowness of that man's pretensions, some gladly

rush to the conclusion that all religion is a pretence; they

greedily grasp at the conviction, because it favours their own

licentiousness, that "there is none righteous, no, not one."

Religion in every form is therefore regarded as an offence, or

discarded as an imposture.

Or, in the workshop beside us, we may find some other man who

affects to be scientific. He knows a little of Geology, and is able

to overthrow Moses and the Bible. He is acquainted with the secrets

of Chronology, and thinks that there are far older histories--older

by many thousands of years--than the records of Scripture pretend

to be. Or that man has heard a little of Ethnography, and because

he is ignorant, he thinks it can be proved that all the dwellers on

the earth did not spring from Adam and Eve. Or perhaps his learning

takes the direction of tracing the Vestiges of Creation, and he

concludes that man can create--generally, that creatures can make

each other, and that God is therefore unnecessary. These, and

similar pretensions of science, falsely so called, may have taken

hold of some minds around us, and amid the multitude of such

assailants, who are bold, as streams are brawling, in proportion

to their shallowness, it may not be always easy to be steadfast

and unmoveable.

But to render us unmoveable--to arm us against such assailants

--nothing will suffice, till Christ dwell in our hearts by faith;

till his truth be /our property/; till the Saviour be a Saviour, and

pardon a pardon, /to us/. A religion which has merely been handed

down to us by our fathers, will not stand the rude shock of such

assaults as have been named. We need to be rooted and grounded in

the truth. We require a better and a deeper teaching than man's.

It must be a fixed conviction in our soul, that religion does not

consist in observing mere forms or seasons, however devoutly. Christ

must dwell in the heart, just as the blood must be in the body, and

circulate there as a vitalizing power.

THE PANOPLY.

On this subject we cannot be too urgent. While there is absolutely

no panoply but truth, our convictions need to be reinforced by

the feeling, that it is not toil that degrades man; it is not hard

labour that ranks him among the lower orders; it is sin. Adam, in

innocence, had to work, and that did not degrade him. But he sinned,

and that laid him in the miry clay. Paul the apostle had to work,

and felt no dishonour in it. The only dishonour which he knew, was

rebellion against God; and if we would resist the temptations which

assail us from without or from within, we need to make sure that

we are on the Lord's side; that his truth is in our hearts; that

it keeps watch in our souls, ready to sound an alarm, and summon

us to action against every enemy. Without that, surrounded as we are

in the workshop with clouds of enemies, we shall be like the willow

wand before the blast, and driven of the wind and tossed; but with

the grace of God in the soul, we may be strong in the Lord and the

power of his might; we may beat back our assailants--some have won

them to their cause. No power but truth, we repeat, will ever make

us steadfast. Some invest our "cottage homes" with the attractions

of poetry, and tell that

"Fearless there the lowly sleep,

As the bird beneath their eaves."

But it is not poetic embellishments--it is nothing factitious in

man's lot--it is the simple truth of God uniting to Christ, that

elevates or ennobles the soul.

BAPTISMAL SUPERSTITION.

There are some dark-souled tribes in Africa, whose whole religion

consists in charms and incantations. By means which we need not

tarry to describe, they try to ward off what they reckon evil, or

to obtain what they reckon good. Now, strange as it may appear,

that folly is native to the mind of man. The very same tendency

which makes a degraded savage trust to a charm, makes some who

are not savages trust to rites, and ceremonies, and forms. One

man concludes that he and his children are born again, or made the

children of God, by the mere fact that they were baptized--that

is, by a ceremony. Another thinks that his soul is right, because

he worships among Christians. A third concludes that all is well,

because the sacrament of the Supper has been administered to him;

that rite is to many a soul what the extreme unction of popery is--a

charm, an incantation, and nothing more. Now, while that is the only

form of religion in man's soul, he will prove the ready victim of

the snares and entanglements of the workshop. If the truth of God be

not rooted in the heart, no man can stand. We repeat it, and repeat

it--there is only one power that can either make us steadfast or

keep us so--the grace of God in truth; and the man who confides

in aught else for conquest, is already tottering to his fall.

OUR ALLIES.

Observe, however, we disown no right ally in this holy warfare.

All knowledge that deserves the name--science as far as it can be

acquired--should be acquired by every occupant of the workshop, and

some memorable examples of success in its culture could be named.

These, and all that can either strengthen or expand the mind, should

be cultivated to the uttermost of our power; but with all these,

the mind may become an easy prey to baseless delusions, unless

the wisdom which comes from above be our guide. While we hold

our convictions firmly, we must hold them as God's truth, and in

God's strength, or they will soon be wrung from our grasp. To be

self-reliant is in some respects a duty which we owe to ourselves;

but yet to trust to our own resources, our own wisdom or strength,

is the high way to shame and confusion at the last. We are prepared

to resist and to triumph only when we have on the whole armour of

God. If we try to realize a Saviour's love, we have a sure defence;

but whatever would withdraw us from that holy influence, whether

it be the deceitful heart within, or an ensnaring world without,

is just like the smoke from the abyss--it is loaded with darkness

and death to the soul.

HUMAN DEVICES.

There is a canoe floating lazily on the waters of the St. Lawrence.

All is bright on either side; and forests which nothing but the

wild beast or the tempest has disturbed for centuries, wave in

the plenitude of summer richness. In that canoe there is a boatman

asleep, and the gentle gliding of his little craft is fitted rather

to rock than to rouse him. Gradually, however, the river flows

more rapidly. The boat, with its sleeping cargo, feels the suction,

and now rushes with increasing velocity along. Its agitation at

length rouses the sleeper, but it is too late. His skiff feels

the resistless power of the current; and, amid wild gesticulations,

he plunges into an abyss where his very fragments are destroyed.

And similar results are seen in the moral world, when men permit

themselves to be drawn within the suction of that current which is

sweeping so many down to ruin for ever.

SECULARISM.

Were it needful further to enforce this subject, we might refer to

the ever-varying forms of delusion which heady and selfish men often

obtrude on the notice of their fellow-workmen. Even in the course

of a single generation we may count scheme after scheme--Utopian

reforms--charters--new distributions of property or power--all

designed to enlist men's sympathies in favour of some dream-like

project, only to plunge its abettors into a deeper abyss than

before. The most recent of these assumes the name of /Secularism/.

It has for its object the abolition of Christianity, and all that

relates to the soul. One of its leading maxims is, "The precedence

of the duties of this life over those pertaining to another world;"

and, by the advocacy of such opinions, the system and its supporters

adapt themselves to all that is low and grovelling in the fallen

soul. They beguile the unwary, and make an easy conquest of those

who have no religion but that of their country or their fathers. Or

another dogma of the system is, that "the atonement of Christ is

unsatisfactory as a scheme, and immoral as an example;" and by

such tenets men would tear up the foundation on which the hopes

of mortality repose: they proudly but blindly sport with their own

ruin, and glory in lowering themselves to the level of the beasts

which perish.

THE HEAVENLY ANTIDOTE.

Now, against such satanic schemes, there is no safeguard but

one--the truth as it is in Jesus, planted in the heart by his

Spirit, and tended there by his grace. Our religion, or what we

call religion, will perish like flax before the flame, when such

deceivers assail, unless we have felt the truth in its power, and

know, in spite of all opposition, that it /can/ guide, /can/ purify,

/can/ bless the soul. What more congenial to man than to be told

that he need not care much about his soul? What can throw open the

door for indulgence so widely as to be assured that we need not

prepare for hereafter--that earth is all? What can more perfectly

pamper the selfishness of man than to be told that "spiritual

dependence may lead to material destruction?" Hence the danger of

such bold blasphemies. They find an ally, and often a ready welcome,

in the heart of man; and hence also the necessity of getting hold

and keeping hold of the heavenly antidote to all such delusions.

That antidote is the truth--the truth of God felt in the heart, and

guiding the life; and with that in our possession, we repeat /in our

possession/, we may humbly take up the great Reformer's eulogy, and

say, "I will not fear the face of man." God and man, this world and

the next, are alike provided for in the Word; and when we learn to

welcome all God's revelation, we shall be guided into every good and

holy way.

THE COWARDICE OF SIN.

III. A third counsel for our guidance in the workshop is, briefly

--Be consistent. Never forget that the man who tries to be a

Christian to-day, and complies with the enticements of sinners

to-morrow, is one who is easily despised. The ungodly are lynx-eyed

to mark his inconsistency, and prompt enough to pour contempt upon

him. A single rash act, a single rash word, may inflict a wound upon

the soul, or a blemish upon the character, from which it will not

easily recover; nay, like a moral palsy, it may strike us with

weakness and timidity for life. If we would be Christians at all, we

must be Christians always. Then by the grace of God we are safe, and

it would be pleasant to tell of some who have thus resisted the tide

of iniquity which broke against them in the workshop, or silenced

the abundance of abuse.--The sinner is, by a necessary law, a coward.

He fears God, though he will not own it; he fears conscience, and

tries to trample it out as a dangerous spark; he fears perdition,

though he seems to be stout against it; and, moreover, he fears a

humble, living, consistent Christian, though he pretends only to

despise him. The sinner, we repeat, is a coward, by a necessary law.

Terror is part of the wages of sin; and though sinners in crowds be

courageous, /alone/ they are timid and discomposed. They shrink from

the glance of a good man's eye; in their secret heart they fear him

with a fear which in some cases passes into love.

A MORAL PESTILENCE.

Now, the knowledge of that should make the believer bold and firm.

By consistency he will subdue--he may be the means of winning some

from the error of their ways. He will generally find some Aquila

with whom to associate as he works. His God will raise up some

like-minded companion with whom he can take sweet counsel; and if

that believer will seek to keep alive in his memory, in the workshop

and everywhere, the conviction, that there is only one really

formidable thing in all God's world, /that is sin/, he will be made

more than a conqueror. Swayed by that deep conviction, the occupant

of the workshop may often be vexed, as Lot was in Sodom; but,

appealing to the Wonderful, the Counsellor, strength will be

supplied according to his day, while conscience is kept unsullied

and at peace. The squalid victim of sin will be a beacon. The bold

blasphemer will be an object of utmost pity. The Secularist, and

all who give earth precedence to heaven, or man to God, or sin

to holiness, will be shunned as a moral pestilence; and the felt

necessity of being much at the fountain, amid all these sources of

contamination, may turn the workshop into a Bethel. We could tell

of more than one instance in which that has been the case.

ANALOGIES.

IV. As it is not our object to enter into details, but mainly to

submit such general suggestions as Christian wisdom may enable men

to apply as occasion requires, we need scarcely say--At once, and

resolutely, put away all the sinful compliances which may be common

in the business which you pursue. There are usages, there are

expressions, there are pretexts in many departments which pure

principle would at once put down, and let the workman of integrity

disown such things. The commonness of a sin only makes it worse;

and instead of pleading that as a reason for compliance, it is, in

truth, a reason for our instant recoil. And never take up the words

which are common on the lips of some, that they may cover their

iniquity, although the veil be thin: "An honest man cannot live

now--that is, we must employ finesse, or fraud, in order to obtain

a livelihood, or clear our way through the world." Such a statement

is a slander against the truth; it is dishonouring to the God of

truth, and the very reverse of it is true. But write it deep upon

the conscience, that "Better is a dinner of herbs where love is,

than a stalled ox and strife," and be assured that godliness has

the promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is

to come. Be poor, but be not unprincipled. Sit down to very humble

fare, rather than harbour an angry conscience. When sinners entice

you, do not consent, whatever be the bribe. Holding fast your

integrity, in the strength of your God, he will redeem his promise,

"Bread shall be provided, and water made sure," and "Better is the

little that a good man hath, than the riches of many wicked."

Would you struggle for your life were you suddenly to fall into a

stream or the sea? You would: then will you calmly sink to rise no

more for ever, as regards the soul? Would you repel the attack of

a robber were he to invade the midnight silence of your home? You

would: then with equal earnestness, but in almighty strength, repel

the invader--the man that would be the assassin of your soul. Would

you refuse to let the oppressor plant his foot on the happy island

of your home? You would hasten, I believe, to sweep him from our

borders. Then, with equal heroism, defend the freedom which the Son

of God bestows--freedom from the bondage of sin, from its pollution

and its curse.

TOKENS FOR GOOD.

Nor should it be forgotten for the encouragement of the sons of

toil, that there is in our day a gradual approximation of the

classes of society. The spreading of education, and the attempts

of one class to benefit another, are bringing men more closely

together, to link them, as we have seen, in more brotherly concord.

There may still be the scowl of defiance from the lawless, and plots

on the part of the disaffected, while on the other hand, there are

still some remains of a class fast verging to extinction, who would

doom the people to hopeless ignorance and toil. But these are nearly

obsolete notions, and men are more cordially walking together now,

like those who are agreed. In the brief space of a quarter of a

century, the hopes of philanthropists once deemed Utopian, have

been turned into realities; and while the doctrine of Christ is

thus adorned, men's sorrows are soothed, their souls are blessed.

Many other counsels might be added to those now advanced. We might

say--In the workshop avoid all high debate. It never leads to

edification; it often occasions the loss both of our temper and

our cause. "Be always ready to give to every one that asks it, a

reason of the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear." Be as

ready to protest against all that is hostile to the soul and the

happiness of man. But contention about religion is often its death;

and we would rather say, Hold in your mouth as with a bridle when

the wicked are before you. Let /the life/ argue for the Saviour and

his cause, far more than the lip. In that way, men will be compelled

to take knowledge of you that you have been with Jesus. The life

of a Christian is always the most conclusive argument and the most

solemn appeal. "Study to be quiet, and to do your own business,

and to work with your own hands," and let the contentious bite and

devour, without retaliation from you.

We might farther say--Be diligent. Above all, be diligent for Christ.

It is thus that his people learn to put on armour of proof against

all temptation. They redeem the time. They try to do all in the name

of Christ, and he becomes like walls and bulwarks round about them.

If you will learn to be a "miser of moments," you may grow rich for

eternity.

THE TEMPTER A REPTILE.

Or we might say--When temptations come, remember that ere the first

tempter succeeded, he had to become a reptile; and he that would

tempt you is by that act a degraded being. He is to be shunned as

an offence; as debased himself, and therefore anxious to debase.

Such men may sell their souls for woe, but surely "in vain is the

snare set in the sight of any bird--" will you follow the example

of a self-destroyer?

Or we might add--Be not deceived by any of the pretexts which

cunning men adopt to beguile and ensnare. On the one hand, they

flatter /the working/ classes, as if all were idle except the

inmates of the workshop; but you know that it is not so. What Paul

said to the Colossians concerning his own doings, is true of many

still: "I toil, agonizing," he said, "with the energy of Christ." On

the other hand, men speak of the lower orders as if /you who toil/

were they. But the really low are the men who live in idleness and

sin. It is not toil, it is guilt that lowers or degrades us; and

that conviction should be rooted in all our minds.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

But enough. Let the men of handicraft and hard labour cling close

to the Bible, for it alone can ennoble and purify. Before its light,

let all grow pale; before its wisdom, let all appear foolish.--As

we approach the mighty Alps, other objects begin to seem small or

diminutive; and after our eyes have been familiarized with those

majestic masses, what formerly appeared grand seems now reduced to

littleness.--Let it be so in the moral world. Before the majestic

truth of God, let every human being do obeisance, like the sheaves

of his brothers to the sheaf of Joseph; and when we are like-minded

with our God, we shall be strong in his strength, and happy with his

peace. We cannot be always in his house--our daily toils forbid it;

but we should be always in his Spirit; and that is light, that is

strength, that is a passport for man to glory.

Upon a subject so full of interest as the moral condition and

prospects of those who spend their days in workshops, we should not

perhaps be contented with merely announcing general rules, however

sound or scriptural they may be. It is commonly supposed that the

humble men who are so employed are cut off from the nobler outlets

for philanthropy, or from those higher walks in which some move and

do great deeds before the world's view. But no mistake can be more

unfounded. The mighty Maker of heaven and earth has debarred no man

from doing good, if man himself be inclined; and some of the noblest

benefactors of our land or race, have been found among the very

classes too commonly supposed to be doomed only to toil. We waive

all reference to those who, by their inventions, even while engaged

in manual labour, have extended the resources of our empire, and

added to the riches of our globe. We pass by those who have risen

from among the sons of handicraft to take rank among our lawgivers,

our nobles, and other signalized men. We point to only two examples

not less illustrious as benefactors than they were humble in their

sphere.

HARLAN PAGE.

HARLAN PAGE was born at Coventry, in Connecticut, in the year

1791, and was taught by his father the trade of a house-joiner.

He received a good common education. For twenty years and more he

lived without much concern regarding his soul, but in the year 1813,

"the one thing needful" really became an object of earnest pursuit.

Such was his anxiety and distress on account of sin, that he had

frequently to retire from his work to pray. On journeys he often

felt constrained to withdraw to some thicket for a similar purpose;

and on one occasion, after he had begun to teach a school, his

sense of his lost condition as a sinner became so intense, that

he felt that he could not again leave the throne of grace till

the controversy with his Maker was closed. There, in the darkness

of midnight, and under the guidance, none can doubt, of the Holy

Spirit, he consecrated himself to the Redeemer, not merely in the

confidence of pardon and acceptance, but with the determination

to live and labour to promote His glory in the salvation of the

perishing. "When I first obtained hope," he said on his dying bed,

"I felt that I must labour for souls. I prayed, year after year,

that God would make me the means of saving some."

"BEHOLD HE PRAYETH."

And his prayer was signally answered. Never did Page lose an

opportunity of holding up the lamp to souls. By letters, by

conversation, by tracts, by prayers, by appeals and warnings, as

well as by a holy and an earnest example, did he try to reclaim

the wandering or edify the believer. In factories, in schools, and

elsewhere, did this mechanic labour, and only the mighty power of

grace can explain how one so humble could achieve so much: his life

is a speaking comment on the words, "God hath chosen the foolish

things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the

weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty.

And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath

God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things

that are." "Our faith in eternal realities is weak," he cried,

"and our sense of duty faint, while we neglect the salvation of

our fellow-beings. Let us awake to duty, and while we have a tongue

or pen, devote them to the service of the Most High, not in our own

strength, but with strong faith and confidence in him."

LOVE TO SOULS.

Now, the record of this man's life shows that no day was allowed

to pass without something done for the good of others' souls. What

Page mainly aimed at was the conversion of the unconverted; and

the extent to which he was honoured may be viewed as at once an

encouragement and a reproof. His own soul was all aglow when he

heard of one after another brought to the Saviour. While he wept

over men's impenitence, he exulted when he heard they had welcomed

the call. He tried to win the young and warn the old, and his

pleadings with sinners were sometimes most pathetic. "Shall neither

man nor God," he said to one, "hear from your lips, 'O my sins,

my sins, I fear they will ruin my soul for ever?' Shall no prayer,

'God, be merciful to me a sinner,' break from your heart?" "You are

now in an awful crisis," he said to another. "Your eternal all may

depend on the course you take. The Lord has taught you by his Spirit

that you are a wretched, perishing sinner. You feel that you have

no preparation for heaven, and see nothing before you but eternal

woe. O, my friend, /there is a refuge/. The Lord Jesus invites,

in melting strains, 'Look to me, and live; come unto me, and find

rest!' O go to Him /now/, as you value your precious, your immortal

soul."

A SPIRITUAL HARVEST.

At other times Page was brief and sententious, but solemn.

Seeing four youths, for example, on one occasion employed in some

thoughtless course, he accosted them, and drove this laconic warning

like a nail into their conscience, "Prepare to meet thy God!"--and

it was blessed. In a word, he sowed beside all waters, and the

increase was proportioned to his faith. All this took place

amid bodily weakness and daily toil, insomuch that his ailments

obliged him at last to seek a change of occupation, and he for

some time taught a school during the winter seasons. One hundred

and ninety-five pupils passed through the hands of Page in that

character. The history of seventy of them is unknown; but of the

remaining one hundred and twenty-five, eighty-four are thought to

have given evidence of conversion, and six became preachers of the

gospel. In another place, fifty-eight were supposed to have been

brought to Christ by his instrumentality. Such was the blessing

which made him and others rich and added no sorrow.

Nor need we wonder. So intense was the ardour of Page in dealing

with souls, that he has been known even in sleep to suppose that he

was expostulating with them, and to awake in tears of earnestness

and pain. Knowing that every child of the fallen Adam must either

be born again, or never see God, he made that the burden of all his

endeavours, his prayers, his struggles, and tears. To labour for

that became a portion of his very being; and he died as he had

lived, beckoning all around him to follow him to be for ever with

the Lord.

Here, then, is a man in humble life, without any adventitious aid,

without any learning, for many years the occupant of a workshop, yet

living, labouring, dying to win souls to Christ. He was, indeed, a

sweet savour of Christ wherever he went; and should not the example

of Harlan Page summon many in his own sphere to go and do likewise?

Does it not prove, that if we have the grace of God in our heart,

it is not rank, or wealth, or learning, or power, but a willing mind,

and consecration to Christ, his cause and glory, that are required to

accomplish great things? Let our artizans imbibe the spirit of Page,

and then they may be honoured as he was; it may be inscribed upon

their tombstones as it was upon his, "He ceased not to warn every

one night and day with tears."

JOHN POUNDS.

JOHN POUNDS was another benefactor to society who deserves to be

held in perpetual remembrance. He was born at Portsmouth in the

year 1766. By the fracture of a limb, he was forced to change

his employment as a shipwright for that of a shoemaker, or rather

shoe-mender, for he never rose to the rank of a maker, and as the

occupant of a "weather-boarded tenement" in his native town, John

divided his time between his awls and deeds of active benevolence.

A cripple himself by his accident, he had also the charge of a

decrepit nephew; and the boy for some time divided the attention of

Pounds with a number of tame birds which he kept from affection or

for amusement. By exercising his ingenuity and benevolence at once,

he succeeded in restoring some degree of soundness to his nephew: he

then undertook to teach him to read; and that led him to seek some

companion for his ward and pupil, under the wise impression that the

one would stimulate the other, and the progress of both be promoted.

His pupils gradually increased in number: his love of teaching grew

upon him, and the work soon knew no limits but those of John's very

humble abode. It was about six feet wide by eighteen in length;

and in that apartment did Pounds, surrounded by his scholars, ply

his double avocation of cobler and schoolmaster. The progress of

the scholars was as diverse as the employments of the master; but

he bore all with gladness. He had his eye upon each outcast in

the group, and by his expertness he showed that he was a born

teacher--his gift lay in training.

A LOWLY PHILANTHROPIST.

As Pounds rose in popularity, the applications for admission to

his seminary increased; and with a remarkable but wise instinct,

he selected "the little blackguards" in preference to others, that

he might enjoy the pleasure of breaking them in like the wild ass's

colt. Some he would allure to his school by such poor bribes as he

could command; and though his labours were unrequited, though he had

not the means of purchasing school-books, but taught the alphabet

from handbills and fragments of old volumes, yet some hundreds of

persons owed all the learning they ever acquired to this facetious,

devoted, and humble philanthropist. He helped to keep down the

calendar of crime, and sent not a few into life possessed of

acquirements sufficient to impart respectability in their sphere,

who, had it not been for John Pounds, the founder of Ragged Schools,

might have become the pests or the plunderers of society.

MAN'S RUIN AND RISE.

Such, then, is another instance of philanthropy, in one of the

humblest of mankind. After this, why wait for some costly apparatus

for doing good? Why delay the attempt to make the world better,

however humble our sphere may be, when we see one so lowly, yet so

honoured--so poor, yet making so many others rich? Nay, with the

grace of God in the heart, and love to souls as its invariable

attendant, be it the felt duty, the privilege, the resolute vow

of all, even in the workshop, to seek to convert some sinner from

the error of his ways, and thereby hide a multitude of sins.--As

one wanders over the Seven Hills of Rome, he may often pick up a

marble fragment of a frieze, a portion of a capital, a volute, or

a triglyph, telling of the grandeur which once was there, when the

palace of the Cæsars crowned more than one of the hills, and the

"Golden House" of Nero formed the glory of the whole. And, in like

manner, amid the ruins and the /debris/ of our fallen nature, we

sometimes find what reminds us of its primal glory, and of the depth

to which it has fallen; and yet assuring us, that fallen though it

be, it may not have fallen for ever. Benefactors to humanity, like

Harlan Page and John Pounds, occupy that rank among men.

SERVING THE LORD.

There is no weariness to him who works for Christ: he is willing to

spend and be spent. No sullen drudgery is his, as if work were only

a doom--nay, rather cheerful work from a glad, emancipated spirit,

and joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ. That sweetens toil;

that braces the arm; that nerves man's spirit for all that can ever

come; and even his daily work, as a husbandman, or an artizan, is

thus spiritualized into a service to his God.

A Lamp to the Path Or, The Word of God in the Heart, the Home, the Workshop and the Market-Place · 第 3 / 8 章