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JOHN KNOX'S DEATH-BED. ONE morning his friends entered his apartment. He had been fight
ing, not sleeping; wrestling, not resting; and it required all God's grace to bring him off a conqueror. Till daybreak Jacob wrestled with the angel of the covenant; and that long night Knox had passed wrestling with the prince of darkness. Like Bunyan's pilgrim, he met Apollyon in the valley, and their swords struck fire in the shadow of death. The lion is said to be boldest in the storm. His roar is never so loud as in the pauses of the thunder, and when the lightning flashes brightest are the flashes of his cruel eye; and even so he who as a roaring lion goeth about seeking whom he may devour, often seizes the hour of nature's distress to assault us with his fiercest temptations. Satan tempted Job when he was bowed down with grief. Satan tempted Jesus when He was faint with hunger. Satan tempted Peter when he was weary with watching and heart-broken with sorrow; and reserves, perhaps, his grand assault on us for times that offer him a great advantage. It was when Knox was worn out, left alone, his
head laid low on a dying pillow, that Satan, like a roaring lion, leaped upon his bed. Into the room the enemy had come; he stands by his bed; he reminds him that he has been a standard-bearer for the truth, a reformer, a bold confessor, a distinguished sufferer, the very foremost man of his time and country; he attempts to persuade him that surely such rare merits deserve the crown. The Christian conquered; but, hard put to it, only conquered through Him that loved
OBEY AND YOU SHALL KNOW. NEVER was there a truer or more beautiful saying-as every Christian experience will testify-than that of our Saviour: "If any man will do my will, he shall know of the doctrine." Obedience opens the heart to the Great Teacher, the Holy Spirit, and gives us a practical insight into former mysteries. Not only so, but we become keenly appreciative of the beauty and harmony of all God's plans, in nature as well as in grace. None can have so high an appreciation of the noble relations of this life, and of God's educational discipline to fit us for those relations, as the obedient, working Christian.
WHY CHRIST LEFT NO IMAGE. FOUR men who loved Christ with a love stronger than death, wrote His life, but left no hint of His height, complexion, features, or any point that could help the mind to a personal image. Others wrote long epistles, of which he was the Alpha
and Omega; but His form is as much kept out of view as the body of Moses, hidden by the Almighty in an undiscovered grave. The Christian tombs and relics of the first centuries show no attempt to make an image of Christ. Too deep a sense of the divine rested upon the early church to permit of any attempt to paint the human as it appeared in Him.
THE longer I live, the more I feel the importance of adhering to the following rules, which I have laid down for myself in relation to such
1. To hear as little as possible of what is to the prejudice of others. 2. To believe nothing of the kind till I am absolutely forced to it.
3. Never to drink in the spirit of one who circulates an ill report.
4. Always to moderate, as far as I can, the unkindness expressed toward others.
5. Always to believe that if the other side were heard, a very different account would be given of the matter. C. S.
THE CHRISTIAN'S STRAIT. IN the Apostle Paul's Epistle to the Philippians, he speaks of being in a remarkable "strait betwixt two"between his desire to live, and his desire to die. Yet life here and life hereafter had each the same charm, and from the same cause, according to his apprehension. To live was Christ, and to depart was to be with Christ. The sweet and fervent Toplady has well expressed this in four simple lines:
"Thee to praise, and Thee to know,
THE wonderful advantage of a wellventilated lodging was shown in a very interesting manner at Glasgow, where, in a large block of buildings called the Barracks, five hundred people lived, one hundred cases of typhus occurred annually; but in 1832, Mr. Flemming, a surgeon, ventilated the house by carrying a pipe from every room into the shaft of a factory near at hand; and in eight years, instead of eight hundred cases of typhus, only four cases in all occurred. Infants especially re
quire good air. In a certain hospital in Dublin, infants died by hundreds, until holes were made in the windows; the air was thus made colder, greatly to the anger of the nurses, but the children ceased to be poisoned. Cholera loves to cling to low lying and damp houses, but I understand that not one single death from cholera has occurred in any of the model lodging-houses for the people.-Health and Comfort, by G. Wyld, M.D.
TEN GOLDEN RULES. NEVER put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day-" procrastination is the thief of time."
2. Never trouble another for what you can do yourself.
3. Never spend your money before you have it.
4. Never buy what you do not want, because it is cheap.
5. Pride costs us more than hunger, thirst, and cold.
6. We seldom repent of having eaten too little.
7. Nothing is troublesome that we do willingly.
8. How much pain the evils have cost us that have never happened! 9. Take things always by the smooth handle.
10. When angry, count ten before you speak; if very angry, a hundred.
HOW TO PRESERVE HEALTH. MEDICINE will never remedy bad habits. It is utterly futile to think of living in gluttony, intemperance, and medicine. Indulgence of the appetite, indiscriminate dosing and drugging, have ruined the health and destroyed the lives of more persons than famine or pestilence. If you will take advice, you will become regular in your habits, eat and drink only wholesome things, sleep on a mattress, and retire and rise very regularly. Make a free use of water to purify the skin, and when sick take counsel of the best physician you know, and follow nature.Golden Rule.
MRS. ELIZABETH MAYBERY,
MRS. ELIZABETH MAYBERY was the only daughter of the Rev. David Rees, the respected minister of Als Chapel, Llanelly, Carmarthenshire. In looking at her short earthly career, and the brief span of life allotted to her in this world, we are constrained to say that "her sun has gone down while it was yet day." But, short as her earthly journey was, it made an impression, yea, a deep impression, on the circle of her friends and acquaintances. In her character, from her infancy, were seen the adorning traits of meekness and amiability. As she grew up, her
early disposition took the form of cheerful activity and obligingness, which exceedingly endeared her to those that knew her. Her happy and contented piety constantly reminded her friends that the "ways of wisdom are pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." She greatly loved God's people, and had a special regard for His servants, the ministers of the Gospel, as a great number can testify, from both North and South Wales, who were in the habit of calling at the hospitable house of her parents on their various journeys. When she had attained
thirteen years of age, her parents determined to send her from home for education. For this purpose she was placed in a very excellent school at High Wycombe, near London. During her stay at this place, and when only fourteen years of age, she was admitted a member of the church of God. The letter she wrote home to her parents at this time, describing the pleasure she enjoyed in commemorating for the first time the death of Christ, in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, produced pleasing emotions in the minds of her pious parents.
After finishing her studies at school, she returned home, and took an active part in the duties of the family. She also devoted herself with much energy as a member of the English church at Park-street. As she was endowed with considerable musical talent, she presided at the harmonium, and led the singing for years in that chapel. A weekly singing-class was also established by her for the instruction and improvement of the female portion of the congregation. For this portion of the work of the sanctuary she was well adapted; not only her knowledge was very proficient in the theory of music-she had also a powerful and melodious voice.
Mrs. Maybery took an active part in the Sabbath school. She had a class of females under her care when very young. This work afforded her much pleasure, and she followed it with perseverance and fidelity, with but little interruption, to the end of her days. Her class generally consisted of ten or fifteen, averaging from ten to eighteen years
of age. She was highly respected, and much beloved by them. In this department her services were greatly blessed, as most of those under her care were generally admitted church members.
On August 31st, 1858, she became united to her now bereaved husband, Joseph Maybery, Esq., of Llanelly. On December 17th, 1860, during the time of her confinement, she caught a slight cold, which increased to inflammation, and in spite of all medical skill she died on the 24th of the same month, of what is called puerperal fever, leaving behind her a very affectionate husband, two children, a dear father and brother, and a great number of faithful friends to lament her loss.
Her father, in a Welsh periodical, writes, in allusion to his former bereavements, viz., the death of three sons, and an amiable wife, in a very pithy and feeling manner-"Allow me once more to appear before you in sackcloth, to pen a few lines in memory of my only dear daughter, who has been taken from us so very unexpectedly. She never caused us any sorrow or anxiety of mind.”
On the Monday following, she was buried in the family vault, where already were lying her dear mother and three brothers, and where, afterwards, was buried her babe, three weeks old. On the day when the funeral service was held, Mr. Bevan, of New College, London, and the Revs. Messrs. Perkins of Park-street, and Davies of Siloah officiated. As the funeral procession passed through the town, nearly all the shops were closed. On Sunday, Jan. 6th, Mr. Perkins improved her death at Park
street Chapel, in English; and on the 13th of the same month, a funeral sermon was preached in Welsh, by the Rev. J. Evans, of Zion Chapel. Mr. Evans took for his text, Gen. xxxv. 16-19, "And they journeyed from Bethel; and there was but a little way to come to Ephrath: and Rachel travailed, and she had hard labour. And it came to pass, when she was in hard labour, that the midwife said unto her, Fear not; thou shalt have this son also. And it came to pass, as her soul was in departing (for she died) that she called his name Ben-oni: but his father called him Benjamin. And Rachel died, and was buried in the way to Ephrath, which is Bethlehem." The text states that Jacob was now on his journey from Bethel to Ephrath-that is, BethlehemEphrath. On this journey he sustained a severe loss; he lost his affectionate Rachel, but he had his darling Benjamin. Such is the journey of life; it is a mixture of losses and gains. The losses of some are greater than others. Such is and will be the state of things in our world, as long as it will continue the scene of births and deaths. Generally speaking, there is joy in connexion with births, and sadness with deaths. This joy and grief happen sometimes in the same family, and perhaps on the same day. In glancing at society at large, we find there is a vast difference between people in this world. They differ much in constitution, experiences, mental attainments; and as there is so much difference in the mode of living, so, likewise, there is a vast difference in the manner of dying.
All die, but not in the same manner. Rachel died, Leah died, and so did Jacob, but not in the same manner.
We notice, therefore, that people differ materially in the manner of their death. The death of some is more painful than that of others. The manner of death is no criterion of its nature. Some pious people suffer much pain in dying, and some of the most ungodly die almost without feeling any bodily pain. Some people are prone to judge the eternal state of persons from the manner in which they die. My brethren, we must take our stand to pass our opinion on characters, not from the manner of their death, but from the tenor of their lives. For this difference may arise from the nature of the disease under which they labour, or from the weakness or strength of the constitution. The death of a strong young man is likely to cause more bodily pain than that of the weak and aged. A disease may terminate fatally in a day or two, while it may take its course for two years in other constitutions. In consequence of this, some may suffer more bodily pain in two days than others will in two years. An easy death, my friends, is very desirable, but does not prove, in the least degree, the good or bad quality of the character. A painful death never deprived any one of his religion, neither has an easy death given religion to any one.
The death of some is more sudden than that of others. Some die without even a day, an hour, or a moment of affliction. The dart of death is thrown so unexpectedly, there is no time to use any means to prevent its approach; the person is