REVIVAL INCIDENT IN NORTH WALES. great and memorable have been the achievements of devoted female piety in every age of the Church; how much have they accomplished in the great cause of saving a lost world! When our blessed Redeemer hung on the cross, "many women were there," and ever since female piety has been baptized with a nearness to the cross. This spirit was not wanting in the character of female godliness, as it existed among the mountains of Wales. In the praying circles of pious women, the first dawnings of a day of salvation to this people were discerned-in the humble, persevering fervency of their pleadings with God, was heard the first echo of the rumblings of the chariots of salvation. Such the circumstances, and such the people, among whom I was to spend the last Sabbath of the year. It was a solemn time-the field was white for the harvest, and hope alternated between doubt and fear. Would God make bare his arm, and come forth from his hiding place and triumph gloriously? or should we spend the day unblessed? were questions of thrilling interest, as we bowed around the family altar, and in the loneliness of secret devotion. The morning and afternoon services were numerously attended by solemn and attentive hearers; but no special indications of Divine power in the ministrations of the sanctuary were seen. After tea, a young female member of the kind family whose hospitality I was enjoying, requested that after the evening service we should hold an inquiry meeting, to point dying sinners to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world; "for," said she, "several of my young friends are convinced of sin, and anxious to be saved." This request electrified my whole soul; it was the voice of God, replete with encouragement and hope. Before the evening meeting, while the lingering rays of the setting sun crowned in brightness the summits of the surrounding mountains, I sought a place of retirement, to commune with God, and to seek his aid. I followed a path on the side of a gentle declivity, overlooking a placid lake, sleeping in undisturbed beauty and grandeur, till I found a vast amphitheatre formed by projecting rocks. Here, every thing was conducive to devo tion; and I found in this secluded spot a Bethel to my soul, and sweet intercourse with heaven. In retracing my steps to the house, listening, as the shades of night were encircling the earth, to the foam-encrested torrents, dashing wildly from rock to rock on the mountain side, I heard the voice of prayer from an old cow-house on my left. This simple, fervent, and holy pleading at the mercyseat, enchained me to the spot. My heart was moved within me. Such an appeal to God, so urgent-so full of faith-such clinging to the high horn of the altar of the atonement, I never heard VOL. IV.-14 105 before. It was an aged domestic of the family, the old cow-man, taking hold of God's strength, and securing divine aid to a worm of the dust, about to stand as an embassador of God between the dry stubble and the consuming fire. The In repairing to the chapel, the surrounding mountain sides seemed illuminated by lanterns, borne by the groups that were hastening to the house of God-to the gospel pool. Would the angel of mercy descend? was a question of growing interest as I entered the threshhold of the sanctuary. general state of the Church—the faithful labors of a devoted pastor-the female prayer meetings-the manifested interest of my young female friend— the prayer of the old cow-man, and the blessed promise of the Holy Spirit, whispered hope in my trembling ear, nerved my soul, and encouraged my heart to meet the solemn responsibilities of the evening. The chapel was crowded to overflowing, and during the sermon the silence and solemnity of the grave pervaded this vast assembly. Instead of closing the services as usual, by singing and public prayer, as the occasion was peculiar—the last Sabbath evening in the year, and the last time I ever expected to meet the congregation till with an assembled universe we meet at the judgment-the time was spent in silent prayer. Christians were exhorted to seek for more of the life and power of religion, the halting were pressed to decide, and the careless to consider their ways. These were moments of fearful, awful interest-decisions, involving the changeless destinies of eternity, were to be made-hell, earth, and heaven seemed in mighty conflict. A few minutes of unbroken silence elapsed, then followed suppressed groans and heavy sighs, from hearts broken by the power and grace of God. At length, "God be merciful to me a sinner," in a loud, piercing voice, was heard from a distant corner of the gallery. It was a strong man, a hardened sinner, waving the signals of distress in sight of the life-boats of salvation, while the tides of Divine love were flowing full and free. The sanctuary was now a Bochim-a place of weeping. The scene beggars description. At the expiration of the time designated for silent prayer, the congregation was dismissed, and those whose hearts were pierced by the sword of the Spirit, were invited to remain for conversation and prayer. Near one hundred and fifty poor sinners, lost and helpless in themselves, were found convinced of sin, anxiously inquiring the way to Jesus. "It was the Lord's doings, and it was marvelous in our eyes," God came suddenly into the camp of Israel; and the valley of dry bones, as the Spirit breathed its life-giving energy in answer to the prayer of faith, became the arena of spiritual life and animation. Before midnight, many poor backsliders, who for years had wandered away from God, were rejoicing in the joys of pardoned sins, and many souls, happy in their first love, gave evidence that God had power on earth to forgive sins. Others, and by far the most numerous part of those that remained, were slain by the law, drinking the wormwood and the gall of conviction, and were pressing their way to the cross, crying, "None but Jesus can do helpless sinners good." The good work advanced-the interest became more and more intense; the claims of religion gained a complete ascendancy over the vain pursuits of earth and time. At my embarkation, two months after, the good pastor communicated the glad intelligence that over two hundred souls had been hopefully converted to God. When Christians come up to the help of the Lord, what a great and glorious work God will do for them. In this rich display of Divine grace, the agency of praying females, the deep anxiety of a young lady in the salvation of her associates, are plainly discernable. When the Christian feelings and sympathies of devoted females, are embodied in actions, the influence of female piety carries trembling into the centre of the empire of darkness, and courage into the hearts of the men of God to labor for souls. Every reader of the Repository, her heart glowing with intense love to God and his cause, has in her power to perform a great work in winning souls to Christ. Her prayers, her conversation, and her encouragement, may set in operation a train of causes, whose effects will tell on the salvation of multitudes that are now ready to perish, and whose labors shall be abundantly rewarded in the resurrection of the just. THE MOURNER. I SAW a mourner standing at eventide over the grave of one dearest to him on earth. The memory of joys that were past came crowding on his soul. "And is this," said he, "all that remains of one so loved and so lovely? I call, but no voice answers. O, my loved one will not hear! O, death inexorable death! what hast thou done?" When he thought thus in agony, the form of Christianity came by. He heard the song and transport of the great multitude which no man can number, around the throne. There were the spirits of the just made perfect-there, the spirit of her he mourned! Their happiness was pure, permanent and perfect. The mourner then wiped his tears, took courage and thanked God: "All the days of my appointed time," said he, "will I wait till my change come;" and he returned to the duties of life, no longer sorrowing as those who have no hope. ALMIGHTY. MY SAVIOR is "THE ALMIGHTY." I have his own high and supreme authority for it, in his revelation of himself to St. John. He, who made all things, and by whom all things consist, has exhausted none of his power by its boundless exercise through eternal ages. He is still able to do all things-"able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by him:" and, since he stands engaged by covenant to do all he can for his people, they are secure of having all things effected for them. Does an aged patriarch, in his hundredth year, feel a rising anxiety as to the accomplishment of God's promises? Is he ready to ask, "How can these things be?" Jehovah appears to him, and says, "I am the Almighty-I am the Almighty God; walk before me, and be thou perfect." "Let this be thy anxiety. Leave my promises to my faithfulness and my omnipotence." Unhappy Balaam knew the Star of Jacob, and the Sceptre of Israel by this name, for he "saw the vision of the Almighty." A believer knows that trial and sorrow are not the work of chance. They are too important links in the chain of sovereign mercy, to be left under any other control than the Lord's. Ruth's pious mother-in-law felt this, when she sorrowfully, though resignedly, said to her friends at Bethlehem, "Call me not Naomi, call me Mara: for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me: and the Almighty hath afflicted me." It is remarkable, that this grand appellation of Jehovah occurs no more than sixty-two times in the Scriptures, and that of these one half are in the book of Job. The afflicted patriarch is exhorted not to despise "the chastening of the Almighty, although he felt his very arrows within him, the poison whereof drank up his spirit." He is reminded of the duty of submitting to Jehovah's mysterious dispensations by the humbling inquiry, "Canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection?" He is encouraged to cultivate a cheerful repose in the Lord's mercy and righteousness. "Touching the Almighty, we cannot find him out: he is excellent in power, and in judgment, and in plenty of justice." Beloved Savior, my faith regards thee as my only refuge. Thou art "the secret place of the Most High"-the Holy of Holies, where whosoever dwelleth, "shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty." How unapproachable by any foe-how unassailable by any danger is my hiding place in thee! Let me feel and rejoice in my security, and give to thee all the glory of it. Poor, indeed, is my highest praise; but my joyful and exulting hope is, that I shall ere long add my voice to the choir, which "rest not day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come." And my crown shall lie at thy feet, FEMALE TEACHERS. mingled with their glorious diadems, while I take up their chorus, and cry, with a full heart, and a full voice, "Thou art worthy, O, Lord, to receive glory, and honor, and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created." I seem to catch the melody of that anthem, and the spirit of their praise, while I indulge my longing desire to sing with them "the song of Moses the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb," "Great and marvelous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints. Who shall not fear thee, O, Lord, and glorify thy name? for thou only art holy: for all nations shall come and worship before thee; for thy judgments are made manifest." Contemplating my Savior's omnipotence, and my own impotence, together with the power of faith, as a divine principle, I see that life can plunge me into no difficulties, by which I need fear to be overwhelmed. For even the "things which are impossible with men, are possible with God." Faith gives to my weakness the strength of Jehovah. Jesus teaches me this in his conversation with the afflicted father of the demoniac youth. That father's prayer ran thus: "If thou canst do any thing, have compassion on us and help us." The compassionate Savior replied, "If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth." Thus he seemed, as it were, to transfer the powers of his Almighty arm to the faith of the supplicant. That supplicant, fearing to lose the benefit he sought through the feebleness of his faith, yet conscious that he did possess real confidence in Christ, exerted the strength, which in the hour of his humility and of his extremity, the Lord infused into his soul. The tears gushed from his streaming eyes, while the exclamation burst from his lips, "Lord, I believe! help thou mine unbelief!" Faith triumphed over all the difficulties of the case. The child was rescued from the power of Satan. The father was blessed with the fruits of his faith, joy and peace. O, my Savior, graciously impart to me that faith, which shall thus make my feeble soul strong as omnipotence in thy Almightiness! His word omnific was creation's birth: The law its honor, and let sinners live. བ་་་ Original. FEMALE TEACHERS. 107 PERHAPS in no station does woman exert a more important influence than as a teacher. Surrounded by young beings, in whose hearts she often holds a rank next to the mother's, she guides them in the pursuit of that knowledge which is to render them the instruments of good or evil in all after life. If she have any just conception of the responsibility resting upon her, what a task is hers! Seeking guidance from above, she has first to learn selfgovernment, that she may, both by example and precept, illustrate the beauty of a meek and quiet spirit, and of all the active and passive virtues. Next, she must study each disposition in the little community around her, and endeavor, by every means in her power, to arouse the indolent, encourage the timid, repress the wayward, and form in all, habits of industry, order and submission. Among my earliest and most pleasing recollections, ever arises the form of her who presided over the little ones, daily assembled in the old log school-house of my native village. Miss S. was not one whom strangers would admire, but such were her good sense and kindness of heart, that few could know without loving and respecting her. Blending patience with firmness, she faithfully labored to give her little band a thorough knowledge of those plain, old fashioned branches of literature, which in modern times are too often neglected. I remember the long-long lines of "spelling" we had to learn, and how carefully we were compelled to pronounce each word of our reading lessons; and after these had become somewhat less difficult, came geography. And we must stand by her side while she explained that the world was round-not like a dollar, but like an apple, which, with her pencil passed through it, (for we had never heard of a globe,) was made to represent the earth wheeling on its axis. This, in its turn, was succeeded by arithmetic and writing; and finally grammar, that mystery of mysteries to the uninitiated. How much toil and patience were required, before she could make us comprehend that there was really some meaning in the seemingly senseless jargon, "A noun is the name of a thing." After several years, she left us for the far west. Among the many who succeeded her, (for a village school is subject to frequent changes,) I will mention two. Miss L., the first, soon won our hearts by her extremely agreeable manners. Although very young, she devoted her whole energies to what she considered the improvement of her scholars; but she had mistaken the true meaning of that word. Of a very ambitious spirit, she was desirous that the Seminary should surpass all those around it; and for this end she spared no pains, but devoted almost every moment of her time to its accomplishment. She soon infused into our minds a portion of her ambition, and desiring to make an exhibition of learning on "examination day," we naturally employed much of our time in acquiring a superficial knowledge of the more difficult studies, while we neglected those which were more useful. But this was not the greatest evil: for in many a young mind were sown seeds of envy and rivalship, which might in after life bring forth bitter fruits. I know not where she, of whom I speak, now is; but may it not be hoped that she has learned, ere this, that knowledge is valuable only as it assists us in fulfilling the important duties of love to God and man. Miss M. formed a striking contrast to Miss L. She had early learned the value of religion, and feeling deeply the responsibility of her situation, she daily sought that aid which would enable her to train the young minds intrusted to her care, for future usefulness. Were all who, like her, have the charge of the young, as faithful in the discharge of their duty, we might see many in early life listening to the voice of true wisdom, and seeking that bliss which is immortal. MARY F****. THE ANGEL. MY SAVIOR is the "Messenger" or "Angel of the covenant," in whom I delight, even the Lord, whom I seek. This title is a name of office, not of nature. "For verily he took not on him the nature of angels; but he took on him the seed of Abraham." In nature he is infinitely "better than the angels;" and in fact he receives from them the homage which intelligent creatures owe to their Creator, and which it would be the highest treason for them to offer to another. As an equal party in the covenant of redemption, the Son of God assumed the office of Messenger, or Angel of the holy, blessed, and glorious Trinity, to the guilty children of men: and with the office he also took the name. In the form of an angelic being, my Savior frequently appeared to the saints of old, and they recognized him under that title as their Guide, their Guardian, and their future Redeemer. Let me look back to a few of the most remarkable visits, which he thus paid to his people. Thy first manifestation of thyself by this form and name, O, thou glorious Angel of the covenant, was to a poor outcast female servant, as she sat in melancholy solicitude "by a fountain of water in the wilderness of Shur." She wept, and thou didst observe her tears. She cried, and thou didst hear her lamentations. Thy promises to that lonely wanderer stand good to the present day, and the "wild man" of the Arabian desert bears an unwitting testimony to the veracity of thy word! She recognized thy divinity, "for she called the name of the LORD that spake unto her, Thou, God, seest me!" So, Lord, vouchsafe to observe me, when I weep. Hear the prayer of my affliction, when I cry. In all my wanderings here upon earth, may I ever retain, and be at once admonished and cheered by the recollection, that, "Thou, God, seest me." Under thy guidance may I always find a fountain in the wilderness, for my support and refreshment, and find thee near to sweeten that fountain, by thy manifested presence and thy promises. Wast not thou, O, my Savior, "the Angel who redeemed Jacob from all evil," and whose blessing he devoutly implored upon his grand-children? The venerable patriarch knew thee, as his Redeemer, and supremely valued thy blessing, as the richest inheritance for his descendants. Graciously dispose and enable me to contemplate thee in the same relation to myself, and to set the same exalted value upon thy favors for those whom I love, and whom I may have to leave behind me upon earth. I might bequeath them wealth, and might thereby entail upon them a heavy curse. If I leave them under thy blessing, they will have indeed "a goodly heritage." And is it not respecting my Savior, that my faith hears a voice from heaven, saying, as of old to Israel, "Behold I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in thy way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared?" Isaiah thus spake of that period of Israel's history: "So he was their Savior. In all their afflictions he was afflicted, and the Angel of his presence saved them: in his love and his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them and carried them all the days of old." I am often animated in running the race that is set before me, by the thoughts of the great cloud of angelic witnesses, who surround my course, and "who are sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation." Yet what is this to the assurance, that THOU art with me, to be my constant protector, to supply my wants, to uphold my faltering steps, and to conduct me in safety to the Canaan of my final rest? O, give me grace ever most affectionately to revere thee, to obey thy voice, and to follow thy guidance. Aid and support my drooping soul by thy Spirit. In thy almighty hands hold thou me up, and keep me in all my ways, lest I dash my foot against a stone. Original. HOLINESS.-NO. II. HOLINESS. BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE WAY OF HOLINESS, WITH NOTES "Wilt thou be made whole ?" "Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established."-SOLOMON. "It is a good thing that the heart be established with grace."-PAUL. 109 has my own dearly beloved R. been? And now I will exhort you, dear R., that you pursue precisely the same process urged by Paul on his "dearly beloved." Communion with and conformity to the dark and polluting spirit of the world around you has been your error; and now "what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness? and what concord hath Christ with Belial?" You are a child of light-"a temple of the living God!" O, I am sure you are now sorrowing that you have not, ere this, more fully apprehended your holy calling, and are now longing to comply with the condition upon which God is now about to sanctify you. 66 * * HITHERTO, dear R., you have been wavering in your purposes. Paul says that it is a good thing that the heart be established with grace; and doubtless you now feel that it is a necessary thing, not only for the repose of your spirit, and present usefulness, but also to insure your place among the sanctified hereafter. O, dear R., I am sure your heart is burning with desire for this establishing grace. And is it not possible that you may have it before you lay this communication from you? Yes, all things are possible with God, and all things are possible with him that believeth. Do you observe that this implies a present act? not something in the future. "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth on me shall never die!" Believest thou this? say, R., believest thou this? Then your soul may be raised to entire newness of life this hour. O, the omnipotent power of faith! God cannot work in keeping with the designs of his grace, where unbelief prevails. You will remember that it was said of the blessed Jesus, "He could not do many mighty works, because of their unbelief." The order of his government would be perverted should he, in condescension to your unbelief, work in your heartgarded it as one of the precious gifts of your heav previous to your having ventured your whole being upon him, to bring about this entire renovation for you. O, will you not now know the power of his resurrection, and be brought into that state that will empower you, in the fullness of your heart, to exclaim, ""Tis no more I, but Christ that dwelleth in me?" where you may, in verity, realize that your life is hid with Christ in God. Then let me again say, "Come, for all things are ready!" A complete salvation--a redemption from all iniquity, has already been wrought out for you, and all that remains to be done is, that you accept on the conditions specified in the word. Conditions, very readily apprehended, are recorded in second Corinthians, latter part of the sixth chapter, with the commencement of the seventh. Paul, as you will here observe, was communing with his "dearly beloved" brethren, who as yet had not seemingly apprehended the necessity of an entire renunciation of their former unholy associations. And how much under the dominion of such principles Wherefore, come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing." Do you now comply with the condition? You know it is one thing to be willing to take a necessary step, and another thing to do it; and if you proceed no further than to be willing, you will yet miss the mark. Ah! the vision of your mind is resting on this and the other beloved object. * * * One surpassingly endearing to you is presented, and your heart is saying, "Am I indeed called to sacrifice this object of all most prized?" It may be a dear friend that stands between God and your soul-perhaps your reputation-or some favorite scheme-the idea of prosecuting which troubles you. It matters not what it is God now requires that every idol be dethroned—he is a jealous God, and will have no other gods before him. But perchance you may feel that the object presented is not an idol. You may have even re enly Father; and can he now require that I should renounce it? say you. Why, dear R., if it is indeed a gift from God, is not this of itself a conclusive reason why you should give it up at the bidding of the giver? Cannot you now say with Job, "The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh away, and blessed be the name of the Lord?" But you may apprehend no conceivable reason why you should sacrifice it. Neither could Abraham why he was called to sacrifice Isaac; and is your object more endearing to your heart than his only beloved son was to his? Perhaps nature still shrinks, notwitstanding all your efforts to induce a willingness to the sacrifice. What shall be done? Is there no help? Shall my beloved R. linger in a disheartening attitude here? Spirit of holiness, forbid it! Cheer up, dear R., my heart exultingly apprehends a way for your escape—a way by which your spirit may overleap the snare of the fowler, and bound at once into perfect liberty, light, and rest. An illustration will help. Bid your imagination pass cen |