THE HEAVENLY JERUSALEM. HIGH in yonder realms of light, Heaven's unfading mansions rise: Glad within these blest abodes Wills perverse and hearts untrue, Oft the big unbidden tear, Stealing down the furrow'd cheek, Tales of woe they could not speak; "Mid the chorus of the skies, 'Mid the' angelic lyres above, Hark! their songs melodious rise, Songs of praise to Jesus' love. Happy spirits, ye are fled Where no grief can entrance find; Lull'd to rest the aching head, Soothed the anguish of the mind. All is tranquil and serene, Calm and undisturb'd repose; There no cloud can intervene, There no angry tempest blows; Every tear is wiped away, Sighs no more shall heave the breast; Night is lost in endless day, Sorrow in eternal rest. RAFFLES. THERE was a sale by auction at the Elms-a sale of live stock and dead stock, of household furniture and linen and plate-a sale of all that Mr. M- had owned in the world of worldly things; for Mr. M-had lost his money, and was looked upon as a ruined man. There were several people at the Elms, on the day before the sale was to take place. They were looking over the stock and goods-the farm-yard and the farm-house-catalogues in hand, marking down items which they wanted, or thought they wanted, and meant to bid for on the morrow. FEBRUARY, 1867 C There was Mr. Jones the farmer, who had been examining the horses and the cows, and who thought that the bay filly and the brindled short-horn would answer his purpose if they were not run up to too high a figure. There was Parsons the blacksmith, who had been commissioned by a neighbour and customer of his to set a value upon a quantity of farming implements and machinery, which he was exceedingly competent to do. There was Wicks the carpenter, who, having a little money to spare, believed he might fairly and honestly speculate upon one or two of the wagons and carts, if they could be bought tolerably cheap, with the expectation of selling them again at a profit; and he was reasonably desirous of giving them a more deliberate examination than he could expect to do on the day of the sale. There was Everest the tailor, who wanted a chest of drawers, and would have no objection to lay out a few pounds on a feather-bed, bolster and pillows, supposing that they were worth all, or a little more than all, the money he was prepared to offer for them. There was Rands the shoemaker, whose desires, or whose means, were limited to a round wainscot table and a set of Windsor chairs, and who thought the morrow's sale might present a good opportunity of securing these useful goods. And there was Mr. Roberts, who had no urgent need of anything that was to be sold; but who, having plenty of leisure time on his hands, had sauntered up to the Elms, with his friend Jones, to see what was to be seen. These six men, being old acquaintances of each other,* very naturally got into conversation. They were standing together in the large kitchen of the old farm-house, which was deserted, except by a man who had been put in to take care of it, when, to their surprise, they were joined by their friend and minister, Mr. Gresham, the clergyman of the parish. Mr. Gresham had a catalogue in his hand also; and he explained to the little group of his friends and parishioners that his errand was to look over the household furniture, and put a mark in his catalogue against certain lots which he hoped to be able to purchase at the sale on behalf of Mr. M- and his family, who had taken lodgings in a neighbouring town, waiting for the settlement of their affairs. * And of some of our readers also. See The Family Link, in Tract Magazine, June 1861; The Lost Miners, April 1862; and How did they get in? December 1866. "It is very kind of you to take so much trouble on their account, sir," said Mr. Roberts. "Trouble!" said Mr. Gresham. "Well, it is not a pleasure, certainly; but it is a satisfaction to be able to give any little help where help is needed. You know, friends, where we are told not only to rejoice with those who rejoice, but to weep with those who weep; and to bear one another's burdens, not looking only on our own things, but on the things of others." "That's very true, sir," said Parsons the blacksmith, in his hearty, strong bass voice. "And I am so convinced that you feel as I do, Parsons, and indeed "-looking round-" that all of you, my friends, are disposed to acts of kindness, that I will ask you to assist me now with your advice. You are better men of business than I am, and you can tell me what is about the value of the articles I wish to buy,-so that I may make the most of the money which has been placed by Mr. M-'s friends in my hands." The men willingly assented to this, and Mr. Gresham had ere long received and noted down several useful hints for the next day's sale. "And what is to become of Mr. M- and his family, sir ?" asked the carpenter, during the course of these benevolent proceedings. "It is hoped that, after payment of all he owes, Mr. M— will have enough left to enable him and his family to emigrate to Canada, where less capital is required for farming than in England." "It is to be hoped they will succeed better there than they have done here, sir," said Rands the shoemaker. "It is to be hoped they will indeed," rejoined Mr. Gresham; so far, at least, as it is permitted us to wish for such a doubtful good as mere worldly success. But since we are told, on the very highest authority, that a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of things that he possesseth,' I would prefer asking for any friend of mine a large and increasing share of soul-prosperity to any amount of the treasures of earth." No doubt you are right, sir," said Everest the tailor; "and I do hope that Mr. M will profit by his experience, poor man!" There was something in the tone and manner as well as the evident spirit of this wish which rather jarred on Mr. Gresham's feelings. It was evident that what he had just said had not been received as he meant it. Indeed, although Mr. Gresham had no reason to complain, with the prophet of old, that he had laboured in vain, and spent his strength for nought; but, on the contrary, could look upon many of his parishioners as his "joy and crown of rejoicing,"—yet, after the manner of his Divine Master, who was compelled to ask one of his disciples, "Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip?"-so Mr. Gresham might have said, "Have I so long taught and preached to you, my friends, and are you yet so dull to understand the simplest verities concerning which I have given you line upon line, and precept upon precept?" He was thinking what reply to make, rather to his friend Everest's uncharitable spirit than to his words; when farmer Jones broke out in hearty, generous tones, saying, "Well, they may say what they like, but I won't believe but what Mr. M- is a good man, in the face of all this misfortune." "Do you really think so, Mr. Jones?" said Mr. Gresham, smiling. "I do really, sir," said Mr. Jones, warmly. "And I think so too," continued Mr. Gresham ; "that is to say, understanding by your phrase, a good man'-an honest, sincere, upright, and devoted Christian." "Of course, sir, that is what I do mean," replied the farmer; "because when we talk of goodness, we have to remember what our Saviour said about none being good, but God only." "True: none is essentially and perfectly good, besides God; but when God graciously imparts his goodness to a poor sinner by his Holy Spirit, through faith in his dear Son, there is an important and blessed sense in which that renewed sinner may be called 'a good man;' and such I have every reason to believe Mr. M-to be. But you almost seemed to imply," added Mr. Gresham, "that what you call his misfortune has cast a shade on Mr. M-'s character, and raised a doubt as to his goodness or sincerity." 'Not in my mind, sir; I would not have you think that; but-well, sir, to tell the truth, I have heard said (I won't say where and when), but it was when Mr. M's name was mentioned, Ah, there's one of your professors: What do you say to your methodist farmer now?'" |