thinking of his mother, who was seriously ill, "I see," said he, within himself, "two unquestionable facts: "First, my mother is greatly afflicted in circumstances, body and mind; and yet I see that she cheerfully bears up under all, by the support she derives from constantly retiring to her closet and her Bible. "Secondly, she has a secret spring of comfort of which I know nothing; while I, who give an unbounded loose to my appetites, and seek pleasure by every means, seldom or never can find it. If, however, there is any secret in religion, why may not I attain it as well as my mother? I will immediately seek it of God." He at once rose from his bed, and began to pray. But when he recollected that it was her faith in the Lord Jesus that was the foundation of his mother's peace of mind, he became confused, and ceased. "Now," thought he, "this Christ have I ridiculed; He stands much in my way, and can form no part of my prayers." In utter perplexity he lay down again. When the morning came, he felt the need of supplication, and began again to pray to the Supreme Being. He was not aware that the despised Redeemer was leading him by a way which he knew not, out of darkness into light, and from the power of Satan to Himself the living God. And now he began to reap the inestimable advantage of having been a near witness of the lives of genuine Christians. He could clearly distinguish between the false and the true, and was conscious that the pretended was an imitation of the real-that where the counterfeit was, there must be true coin. "It was one of the first things," he declared, "which struck my mind in a profligate state, that in spite of all the folly, and hypocrisy, and fanaticism which may be seen among religious professors, there was a mind after Christ, a holiness, a heavenliness among real Christians. My first convictions on the subject of religion were confirmed from observing that really religious persons had some solid happiness among them which I had felt that the vanities of the world could not give. 6 "I shall never forget standing by the sick-bed of my mother. Are you not afraid to die?' I asked her. 'No! no!' she replied. "Why does the uncertainty of another state give you no concern?' 'Because,' she said, 'God has said to me, "Fear not when thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee." The remembrance of this scene has oftentimes since drawn ardent prayers from me that I might die the death of the righteous." The seed which that mother had sown with prayer and watered with tears began to break through the rocky crust with which sin and infidelity had overlaid it, and she marked with inexpressible delight and gratitude her son's altered manner, as he now repeatedly sought her sick chamber to converse with her respecting the salvation of God. He now also began to attend the public ministry of the Word. He gradually felt his need of that Saviour who is able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by Him, and as a poor penitent sinner he joyfully accepted Him as his Redeemer and Lord. In 1773 he went to Queen's College, Oxford, and eventually became a clergyman in Leicestershire. He laboured with intense earnestness and with much prayerfulness to arouse the people out of their condition of religious insensibility, and he laboured not in vain. Numbers became devout communicants; flourishing congregations were gathered; and, owing to the Divine blessing, his efforts resulted in the conversion of the young man whose place he was occupying for a season. Mr. Cecil, at the close of his engagement in Leicestershire, removed to Lewes, in Sussex. Owing to the dampness of the house in which he lived, he became afflicted with rheumatism in the head, and thereby was for some time prevented from preaching. As he had no private property, his condition was a trying one. But he bore all with an uncomplaining spirit. His great concern was not to get gain, but to win souls. At this period he was the subject of a remarkable providence. He had been to London to receive sixteen pounds, from Queen Anne's Bounty, and was returning to Lewes. He was to have left London early in the morning, but the farrier who shod his horse detained him until noon, so that he did not reach East Grinstead Common before nightfall. As he crossed the common he came up with a man on horseback who seemed to be so intoxicated as to be in danger of falling from his horse at every step. Mr. Cecil called to him and warned him of his danger; but as his words appeared to be without effect, he, with his usual benevolence, rode towards the man to save him from injury, when to his surprise the man immediately seized the reins of his horse. He knew in a moment that he was in the hands of a highwayman, and endeavoured to break away from his grasp; when his life was threatened if he repeated the attempt. Three others of the gang rode up, and he was placed in their midst. "Here is an occasion for faith," thought Mr. Cecil; and the Divine promisecame into his mind, "Call upon Me in the time of trouble, and I will deliver thee." He silently lifted up his heart to God and entreated His aid. One of the men, who seemed to be the captain of the gang, preparatory to plundering him, asked him who he was, and whither he was going. "Nothing needs a lie," was a principle to which his mind was habituated, and therefore he frankly told them who he was, and whither he was going; upon which the leader said, "Sir, I know you, and have heard you preach at Lewes." And then turning to his companions, he said, "Let the gentleman's horse go: we wish you good night." Much to his surprise Mr. Cecil was allowed to go on his way without injury. THE FAITHFUL THREE. READ DANIEL iii. ELL indeed might the king be astonished! well might his fury be turned into wonder! So greatly enraged had he been against the men who had dared to oppose his proud will, that he had given orders. that the furnace should be heated "seven times more than it was wont to be heated," that it should, in fact, be made as hot as it was possible to make it, and that the mightiest men in his army should bind the three disobedient ones, and cast them in. 66 He had been obeyed, for his commandment was urgent, and who dared to resist him? The furnace was made exceeding hot "; so fierce was the flame, that those strong soldiers who had to cast the three men in, were scorched to death in the act: and the faithful three, dressed in their common clothes, bound and helpless, were cast into the midst of the furnace, and fell down there. Was it not instant death to them? Did not the first blast of that tremendous heat stop their breath for ever? Was not the very intensity of the, heat an undesigned mercy to them, causing their sufferings to be but for a moment? Falling down thus, could they ever rise again? The proud king surely had his desire. His orders were obeyed, his disobedient subjects were destroyed. Who that saw that sight would venture thenceforth to oppose or disobey him? But what is it that the king sees? What is it that turns the whole current of his thoughts, and makes him call in haste to his counsellors? But just now, three men bound were cast into the furnace; the king looks, and behold! four men loose are walking in the midst of the fire. The fire has no power over them, "they have no hurt." Three of them he knows; but who is the fourth? "The form of the fourth," he cries, "is like the Son of God." Astonished, awestruck, convinced of the truth and power of the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and trembling, perhaps, at the thought of his own impious and cruel conduct, he calls them to come forth. They come. And now the king and his counsellors see that this is a mighty deliverance indeed. "They have no hurt;" the fire has had no power upon their bodies, not a hair of their head is singed, there is no change in their garments, not even the smell of fire has passed on them. They come out as safe as they went in; nay more, they went in bound, they come forth free. But who was the fourth? Was he really "the Son of God," the Lord Jesus Christ? We are not to think this. Nebuchadnezzar had no knowledge of the Lord Jesus; and his words do not necessarily mean that this was He. Their exact meaning is, "The form of the fourth is like a son of God;" that is, like some one who is more than man, like an angel, like some heavenly person. It was probably an angel that appeared in the furnace; and so indeed Nebuchadnezzar seems to have believed, for he said, "Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who hath sent His angel, and delivered His servants that trusted in Him." It was an angel who was afterwards sent by God to save Daniel in the lions' den; it was an angel who was sent on this errand too. Both were miraculous deliverances, wrought by special means of the same kind. But though miraculous, this wonderful deliverance is full of instruction and comfort for the servants of God in general. Nothing is too hard for the Lord. What could seem more hopeless than the case of these men? How was it possible for them to be saved? But there is no impossibility with God. This was indeed man's extremity; but "man's extremity is God's opportunity." The fury of the king, the might of his soldiers, the fierceness of the flame, were nothing against almighty power. Is it not so still? Is the Lord's arm shortened, that it cannot save? Deliverance is often delayed till the time for it seems past. It was so here. God did not deliver His servants till they were actually in the fire. He might have changed the king's mind, He might have struck him with death in the midst of his pride, He might have smitten those who laid hands on them-He might have sent deliverance in any way, and at any moment; but it was not till these men "fell down bound into the midst of the burning fiery furnace," that God interposed to save them. It is never too late for God to save those who trust in Him. He chooses His own time and way. He will do all, as is most for their good and for His glory. Who If we God often delivers in most unexpected ways. could have thought of such a way as this? Who could have imagined an angel of deliverance sent into the midst of the furnace? Here is work for faith. could see beforehand how deliverance is to come, what room would there be for faith? To believe that God has a thousand ways which we know not, to wait in prayer and trust for the putting forth of His mighty power, to be willing not to know how He will work for us, to be content to leave all to Him-this is faith, and this is what God calls His servants to. The form of the fourth was like a son of God. Doubtless God still sends His angels to minister to us unseen. But we have even a higher blessing than this. Since the days of these faithful men, the Son of God Himself has appeared in human flesh, and gone about among men, has lived, and died, and risen, and ascended. And when He was going away, He said to His disciples, "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." That promise is ours. Jesus is still with us by the Spirit. He comes to us continually when we seek Him, and ever abides with us. And surely we may believe that when we are in trouble, sorrow, difficulty, or fear, and especially when we are exposed to tribulation or persecution for His sake, then He will be with us in a peculiar way. And if He be with us, what can hurt us? His presence brings both safety and peace. To know that He is near, to feel His presence in the very midst of the furnace of affliction, and thus to have peace in trouble-this is the happy portion of the believer. Let no weakness of faith rob us of this blessing. These men came out from the furnace free, whereas they had been cast in bound; they were reviled and remnants of self-righteousness, perhaps, and been relieved from some distressing doubts and fears. When such is the effect of trial, well may he say with the psalmist, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted." This was a complete deliverance; not even the smell of fire had passed on them. Even so will God save all believers from a worse fire. This furnace, though heated seven-fold, was not so dreadful as that eternal fire which must be the portion of impenitent sinners. Many Our God is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace. threatened before, but honoured and promoted afterwards. Affliction and persecution, endured in the strength of God, do not always bring temporal honour; but they never fail to bring spiritual good. Many precious lessons are learnt in this school. Many a Christian comes out of the furnace with a deeper experience of the love of God in Christ, a clearer faith, a freer spirit, a more devoted heart. He has lost some of his bonds in the fire, has cast off some But he who is washed from guilt in the blood of Jesus A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM. A TRUE INCIDENT. ERHAPS we have all at some period, or in some stage of life, experienced what it is to learn of a little child; nor should the oldest or wisest amongst us despise such a lesson, when the Lord Himself took a child and set him in the midst of the disciples as an example. The following is an interesting illustration in point: "Oh dear," sighed a little girl; "how I wish a real good man would come!" "And why does my darling child wish a good man to come?" naturally asked the mother. "Because I do so long to be a follower." "A follower!" exclaimed her mother, in increased surprise. "Yes; don't you know the sermon, mother dear? I mean a follower of the footsteps.' I want to be one directly a good person comes." Little Minnie had not long to wait, for that very afternoon Farmer Snell, an excellent man, one of her father's tenants, was announced. He was of almost gigantic stature, and his stalwart frame was proportionate in size. Poor little Minnie stood aghast, and both her mother and the visitor caught the words, "I'm sure I never could," as the child bent down, as if taking the measurement of his immense feet. "What could you never, my little dear?" asked the farmer, good-temperedly. "Why, not walk as child's strange words, but received none, save an equally puzzled look, accompanied by a shake of the head. Minnie, however, soon explained herself. "You are a good man, aren't you, sir?" "Well, little miss, if by that you mean do I love the Lord, I hope, by the grace of God, I can say that I do, most sincerely." Mr. Snell spoke with great reverence, though Minnie's next words provoked a smile. "Then if you are good, and have got such immense feet, you can do what God tells you very fast; and that pleases Him, doesn't it?" This seemed a settled point with Minnie, and she was modestly retreating, when Mr. Snell took her strong as you," said the child, in a faltering voice. "And who wants you to, my pretty one?" he said, in a tone of mixed surprise and amusement. But Minnie, instead of replying, looked steadfastly into his face and said, "I know you are a good man, because I heard father say, 'There's good Mr. Snell going by."" kindly by the hand, saying, "But you have not told me what it is that you never could do?" "Not follow in your big footsteps; my boots could never fit into them, though oh, I do so want to follow somebody on to Jesus!" "Bless her pretty heart," cried Mr. Snell, perceiving the drift of her seemingly strange inquiries. Then, speaking in a softer voice, he said, "Ah, never fear, little miss; if you want to follow the Lord Jesus, even in as unworthy a manner as Farmer Snell does, you will have to tread in better footsteps than his. You will have to put your little feet right into the marks the Lord has left behind; and, blessed be His holy name, there's ne'er a foot that is either too small or too large for that walking." But this did not satisfy Minnie. Nothing would do but that she must creep behind this "good man" as he left the house, to try to walk exactly in the prints his thick boots stamped on the damp ground. But when she found she could not keep up with him she burst into tears, and could not be comforted until her mother assured her that if she followed the Lord Jesus with her heart she would soon learn of Him how to walk in "And you think good folks oughtn't to have big His holy steps of love, and be very quick to obey and feet, is that it?" smiled the farmer. "No, sir; I think if they had not big feet they would soon be tired, and could not go fast enough for God." As well he might, Mr. Snell looked puzzled, and turned to Minnie's mother for an explanation of the copy Him in meek and lowly conduct. That if she really wished to do this, or what the Bible calls "follow" Him, she must first pray God to send His Holy Spirit into her soul to lead her straight to Jesus, for by nature we are all very far away from Him, and we need to be drawn, or brought near, before we can even attempt to follow Him; and then Minnie looked up with a bright smile and said, "Hadn't I better go at once and ask Him, mother?" I need not tell you what her mother replied; but just this much you will like to hear, that for full twenty years from that time Minnie has "followed on to know the Lord," and though, perhaps, she has had to bear a cross by the way, she has never flagged, and for this sweetly simple reason-she has not trusted to her own strength or power, but in His who promises that "they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint." They shall " go from strength to strength," until their days are over. Little Minnie's distress had arisen from a sermon to which she had been an attentive listener. "Followers of them," was the text, and as the dear child listened, her secret determination was to watch for a "good man," and then straightway to follow him, putting her little feet into his footprints, to ensure keeping the right line till she got right up to Jesus. Our Lord says, "Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." It is the unhesitating faith and trust of à little child that enables us to grasp all the precious promises which are held out to those who become "followers of Christ as dear children." The Lord Jesus, as the Good Shepherd, goes before His flock and leads it on. So all who wish to join this flock must fall into its footmarks, and only follow as the line leads straight to Jesus. And what is the end of this blessed following? What does the Lord Himself say is the end? "That they may be with Me where I am; that they may behold My glory." "The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." "For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous," but, oh! how different is the "following on" of those who follow not the Lord Jesus Christ! What does the Bible say of it? "The way of the ungodly shall perish.' "Whose end is destruction." T DAILY BREAD. HOU in whom I move and live, Rich supplies, and ever free. HOW ARE YOU TO TRUST IN CHRIST? You UST as you trust any one. ment of that note at the end of three months. You have per fect confidence in their word and in their ability. You go home to-day. You expect there will be food on the table. You have confidence in that. Now, I ask you to have the same confidence in the Lord Jesus Christ. He says: "You believe I take away your sins;" and they are all taken away. "What!" you say, "before I pray any more? before I read my Bible any more? before I cry over my sins any more?" Yes, this moment. Believe with all your heart, and you are saved. Why, Christ is only waiting to get from you what you give to scores of people every day. "What is that?" Confidence. If you really think that Christ is as trustworthy as they are, then deal with Him as fairly. "Oh," says some one, in a light way, "I believe that Christ was born in Bethlehem, and I believe that He died on the cross." Do you believe it with your head or your heart? I will illustrate the difference. You are in your own house. In the morning you open a newspaper, and you read how Captain Braveheart on the sea risked his life for the salvation of his passengers. You say: "What a grand fellow he must have been! His family deserves very well of the country." You fold the newspaper and sit down at the table, and perhaps do not think of that incident again. That is historical faith. But now you are on the sea, it is night, and you are awakened by the cry of "Fire!" You rush out on the deck. You hear, amid the wringing of the hands and the fainting, the wail: "No hope! We are lost! We are lost!" The sail puts out its wing of fire, the ropes make a burning ladder in the night heavens, the spirit of wreck hisses in the wave, and on the hurricane deck shakes out its banner of smoke and darkness. "Down with the lifeboats!" cries the captain. "Down with the lifeboats!" People rush into them. The boats are about full. Room only for one more man. You are standing on the deck beside the captain. Who shall it be? You or the captain? The captain says: "You." You jump, and are saved. He stands there, and dies. Now, you believe that Captain Braveheart sacrificed himself for his passengers, but you believe it with love, with tears, with long-continued exclamations, with grief at his loss, and with joy at your deliverance. You believe with all the heart, and believe in regard to yourself, |