"It was long before that. Soon after Eve had persuaded her husband to partake with her of the fruit of the forbidden tree, she heard God calling,—
"'Adam, hast thou eaten of the tree whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldst not eat?'
"And he said, 'The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, end I did eat.'
"In this reply, he not only endeavored to shield himself from responsibility by throwing the blame upon his wife, but he virtually reproached God—'the woman whom thou gavest me.' 'If I had been alone, I never should have done it; but she tempted me, and I could not resist.'
"And the Lord God said unto the woman, 'What is this that thou hast done?'
"And the woman said, 'The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat.'
"Neither would she bear the blame, but cast it upon another. How much better would it have been for them to cast themselves down at the feet of their Maker, and confess their guilt! How unkind for Adam not to try to shield his wife! But such were the early fruits of sin. No doubt after this, there were many unkind words and feelings between the once happy pair.
"The next occasion of quarrelling which is recorded in Scripture is the melancholy story of Cain and Abel. The dreadful plague of sin, which they had inherited from their parents, had sprung up in their own hearts, and in Cain it yielded bitter fruit, bringing misery and death into their household."
"Who can doubt," remarked Mrs. Dermott, "that the fall brought mankind into a state of sin and misery when he looks around and realizes that but for sin there would be no wars, no armies, no hospitals?"
"No prisons, jails nor houses of correction," added her husband. "There would be no physicians, because there would be no sickness nor suffering; no orphan asylums nor houses for the blind; no unhappy marriages; no deeds, nor bonds, nor suits at law; and no divorces, no murders, thefts, nor backbitings; no quarrels between children, nor throwing the blame upon each other. There would have been no need of the spilling of a Saviour's blood, for man would have been at peace with his Maker. No; the world would present one glorious scene of holiness, and happiness, a heaven upon earth, the delight of angels and of God himself. The joy of one would make more complete the bliss of all. The beasts of the field, instead of preying upon each other, would find their appropriate food growing spontaneously upon the earth. The lion would lie down with the lamb, and a little child would lead them."
"Our sins, like to our shadowsWhen our day is in its glory, scarce appear;Toward our evening, how great and monstrousThey are!"
MAN'S SINFULNESS; OR, THE DISEASED FAMILY.
QUESTION XVIII.Wherein consists the sinfulness of that estate whereinto man fell?ANSWER. The sinfulness of that estate whereinto man fell consists in the guilt of Adam's first sin, the want of original righteousness, and the corruption of his whole nature, which is commonly called original sin, together with all actual transgressions which proceed from it.
——————
"I WISH father wouldn't bring me into the lesson," cried Walter, as he was sitting in a large stuffed chair before the fire, waiting for his parents and sisters to be through with their tea.
"I'll ask him not to," replied Helen, just then entering to room. "Here, I've brought you a cup of milk and water, and mother says if you relish it, you may eat this toasted cracker. I hope you'll like it," added the sympathizing child, "for I fixed it myself with nice cream and salt."
"You're a dear little girl," replied Walter, "and I'll try to eat it just because you have taken so much pains."
For several days the boy had been ill in his chamber, but at his earnest request, his mother had allowed him to come down to the parlor, where, wrapped in a loose dressing gown, he was awaiting the exercise.
"How do you find yourself to-night, my boy?" asked his father, placing his fingers upon his son's pulse. "Helen says you don't wish to be brought into the catechising. Do you mean that you feel too ill to recite with the others?"
"O, no, sir!" responded the boy, a slight flush overspreading his pale countenance. "I meant that I don't like to have you speak about my temper and such things; I'd rather hear about that some other time."
Mr. Dermott smiled, and told Isabelle it was her turn to repeat the answer, and then asked her, "What was Adam's first sin?"
"Eating the apple, papa."
"Do you remember what I told you about Edward?"
"O, yes, papa," cried Helen.
"I think perhaps you will understand this question better, if I illustrate it by a continuation of the story of Edward. When we left him, he had somewhat recovered from the occasioned by his wound, but was still far from well. He gradually recovered, so as to be able to attend school, and then went into his father's store as clerk. But the wound in his side had caused a pulmonary complaint which often confined him to the house for weeks together.
"At the age of twenty-four he was married, and resided with his wife in his father's family. In a course of years, five children were born to them, each of whom, after a few months, began to show certain signs of the disease which they had inherited from their father. The symptoms of these were indeed slight at first, but just sufficient to show that the seeds of consumption were implanted, and would at some time cause their death. They were, however, an interesting family; and Edward loved them with all a father's fondness.
"On a certain occasion, he perceived in one of his boys some symptoms of that unbounded curiosity which had caused him the loss of health and of independence; and he determined to relate his own story as a warning to his children. With a bleeding heart and tear-dimmed eyes, he did so.
"When, with a burst of grief, his oldest daughter cried out, 'O, father! How sorry I am you touched the box. If you had not, you would never have been sick; and mother would not have looked so pale and frightened as she does now, when you raise blood from your lungs.'
"'No, and we should have been rich too,' added the youngest boy; 'and now we are so poor, I hardly ever have any new clothes, and I can't have a sled, like all the other little boys.'
"Edward sighed heavily, as the children openly expressed what had for many years been the burden of his thoughts by day and of his dreams by night. 'Yes,' he cried bitterly, as he rushed from the room to conceal his emotion; 'but for that one act of disobedience, I should now have been blessed with health and an independent fortune. O, why did I not die of the dreadful wound, instead of living to convey the seeds of death to those so dear to me! This is my bitterest thought, that they must suffer in consequence of my sin; and if they should live to become parents, they must transmit the infection to future generations.' Overcome by these thoughts, he wept aloud.
"And when his daughter rushed into the room, she saw that the handkerchief with which her father was wiping his mouth was saturated with blood.
"'O father,' exclaimed Helen, 'I don't like Edward's uncle at all. He might have given him some money, when he had so much.'
"Now," resumed the gentleman, "we will leave the story of Edward, and go back to the lesson, which says 'the sinfulness of that estate whereinto man fell consists in the guilt of Adam's first sin,' just as the children of Edward, by his disobedience, forfeited the favor of his uncle, lost all the healthfulness and the property which they might have inherited, and were visited with poverty, disease, and wretchedness.
"Adam, you know, was created holy, or righteous—a quality here called 'original righteousness.' When he fell, he lost all this; and all those who descended from him lost it with him. Their natures, which would have been holy, causing them to think holy thoughts, to speak holy words, and to perform holy actions, became wholly corrupt. And henceforth they went 'astray from the womb speaking lies;' 'they have all gone out of the way;' 'they have altogether become sinful;' 'there is none that doeth good, no, not one.' The chief prophet of Israel gives this account of the human heart: 'The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint; from the sole of the foot even unto the head, there is no soundness in it.'
"Can you tell me, Walter, what are actual transgressions?"
"I suppose they are such as are acted out, as when we steal, or lie, or swear, we commit actual transgressions."
"Yes, and we also commit them when we indulge wicked or unkind thoughts, which proceed from a corrupt heart. If we neglect the duty of prayer, or of keeping holy the Sabbath, all these flow from a carnal mind, and are actual transgressions of the law of God. David prays,—
"'Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer!'
"Last Sabbath there were three infants baptized," added Mrs. Dermott. "Can you tell me, Walter, why water was used?"
"No, ma'am."
"Water is an element used for cleansing. Parents who carry their children to this ordinance realize that they have inherited corruption, and are unholy and unclean; therefore they desire them to be washed, or purified. But I shall explain this more fully to you under another question."
MAN'S MISERY; OR, THE BATTLE FIELD.
QUESTION XIX.What is the misery of that estate whereinto man fell?ANSWER. All mankind by the fall lost communion with God, are under his wrath and curse, and so made liable to all the miseries of this life, to death itself, and to the pains of hell forever.
——————
IT was now the last week in March; and the children were looking forward with great delight to the making of their gardens.
The last year, Mr. Dermott selected from his grounds a pleasant, sunny spot, had it ploughed and enriched, and then divided it into four small lots for his children. They were allowed to plant just what they chose, and to take the entire care of their own enclosure. This plan succeeded so well, and afforded so much innocent and healthful amusement to the little ones, that their father was induced to repeat the experiment.
These pleasant anticipations, however, did not detract from their interest in the catechisings; and on the evening of Thursday they were in their places, eager as ever for the exercise to begin.
"We learn," commenced Mr. Dermott, "in the third chapter of Genesis, that when God first created man, he allowed him to have free communion with himself. Adam and Eve expressed no surprise when they heard the voice of the Lord in the garden. It seems to have been an event of frequent occurrence; but after they had sinned, they were afraid to come into his presence, and hid themselves; just as a child who has disobeyed the commands of his father is afraid to meet his eye.
"All communion between them was lost, and they fell under his wrath. He told Eve that, in consequence of her disobedience, she should have sickness and sorrow; and that, instead of the confiding love with which her husband had heretofore regarded her, as she had so wickedly misused her influence, she should henceforth become subject to his rule. To Adam he said,—
"'Cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life. Thorns and thistles shall it bring forth to thee, and thou shalt eat the herb of the field. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread till thou return unto the ground.'
"Just see what misery the first married pair brought upon themselves by their rash defiance of God's commands. Into how many parts does the answer divide this misery?"
Walter glanced at the answer in the book, and replied, "Into six."
"And do all Adam's descendants come under the same?"
"Yes, sir, just as the children of Edward inherited their father's sickness and poverty."
"To the first of these we have already alluded;—loss of communion with God. Paul, in his Epistle to the Corinthians, says,—
"'For what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? what communion hath light with darkness?'
"We have seen, too, how Adam and all mankind are under God's wrath and curse, and so are made liable to all the miseries of this life—to profaneness, idolatry, and other sins. Even the tilling of the ground, which before the fall was a recreation and delight, now became laborious and painful.
"Mankind are liable also to death itself, and to the pains of hell forever. It is written,—
"'Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things written in the book of the law to do them.'
"And who can lay his hand upon his heart and say that he has done this? No one born of woman except the Son of God. How terrible to be under the wrath and curse of the Almighty! Thanks, everlasting thanks to Him who hath given up his own life to redeem us from this dreadful curse, and to provide a way for us to be again received into favor.
"Perhaps there is not a more impressive illustration of the miseries of sin than that afforded by the battle field. An inspired apostle inquires,—
"'Whence come wars and fightings among you? Come they not hence, even of your lusts, that war in your members?'"
"As a specimen of those, I will relate an incident, from the pen of a clergyman, concerning the battle of Soldin.
"'At one o'clock the cannonading ceased. Toward evening, seven hundred Russian fugitives came to Soldin, a most pitiful sight! Some holding up their hands, cursing and swearing; others praying and praising the King of Prussia; without hats, without clothes; some on foot, others two on a horse, with their heads and arms tied up; some dragging along by the stirrups, and others by the tails of the horses.
"'When the battle was decided in favor of the Prussians, I ventured to the place where the cannonading had been. After walking some way, a Cossack's horse came running at full speed toward me. I mounted him, and on my way, for seven miles and a half on this side the field of battle, I found the dead and wounded lying on the ground sadly cut in pieces. The farther I advanced, the more these poor creatures lay heaped upon one another. That scene I shall never forget. The Cossacks, as soon as they saw me, cried out, "Dear sir, water, water, WATER!"
"'Righteous God! What a sight! Men, women, and children, Russians and Prussians, carriages and horses, oxen, chests, and baggage, all lying upon one another to the height of a man! Seven villages around me in flames, and the inhabitants either massacred or thrown into the fire.
"'A noble Prussian officer, who had lost both his legs, cried out to me, "Sir, you are a priest, and preach mercy: pray show me some compassion, and despatch me at once."'"
"In the next lesson I shall give you an account of a new covenant of grace."
ELECTION AND REDEMPTION; OR, THE NEW HOME.
QUESTION XX.Did God leave all mankind to perish in the estate of sin and misery?ANSWER. God having, out of his mere good pleasure, from all eternity, elected some to everlasting life, did enter into a covenant of grace, to deliver them out of the estate of sin and misery, and to bring them into a state of salvation by a Redeemer.
——————
THIS year the old adage was verified. March had come in like a lion, and it went out like a lamb. The air was warm and soft, and the children could hardly believe that there would still be cold weather, which would injure their seeds if they put them into the earth.
In the middle of the day, the ground for their little gardens was so soft that Walter, who went out to make a survey, as he called it, was glad to hobble into the house, leaving one shoe sticking fast in the mud. This satisfied him that he had better follow his father's advice, and wait until the frost was out of the ground, and the water had had time to drain off or dry up. He changed his stockings, therefore, and began to think what he should do until tea time, when, seeing the Catechism lying upon the table, he looked at the answer, and committed it to memory for the evening.
"You all seem to like to hear about Edward," remarked Mr. Dermott, when they were ready for the lesson; "and perhaps it would be well for me to illustrate the meaning of this answer by a continuation of my parable."
Helen clapped her hands, while the countenances of the others expressed their pleasure.
"We will suppose, then," added the gentleman, "that Edward's rich uncle returned to India soon after his nephew's accident, and that he had only occasionally heard rumors of the sad consequences of his disobedience.
"There he married, and had one son, Joshua, to whom he often related the sad story of Edward, and whose love, sympathy, and pity were greatly moved toward his relative. When he attained his majority, his father settled upon him a large portion of his vast estate. About this time, however, both father and son returned to the land of their ancestors, and, bringing with them their vast treasures, they built a splendid palace,—which they adorned with all that art or money could obtain,—and then, when Edward was reduced to the last extremity of poverty and wretchedness, his cousin went to visit him.
"'My dear friend,' he said, gazing with tender compassion upon the sunken eyes and hollow cheeks of the once bright and rosy youth, 'my heart aches to find you reduced to such a state of misery. For a long time I have had a purpose of mercy toward you; indeed, I have satisfied for your offence, propitiated my father's favor, prepared a home where every comfort and happiness shall be yours. Leave this wretched abode; come and share with me; I will provide for you forever.'"
The tender-hearted Anna wiped the tears from her eyes as she exclaimed, "O, I am so glad he was provided for at last!"
"And could all his family go with him?" inquired Walter.
"All who pleased could go; the invitation was made freely to all of them."
"Of course they did, then," cried Helen. "I wouldn't have staid a minute in that old ugly place, when I could live in a palace, and have such nice things."
"When Edward heard this noble, generous offer," resumed Mr. Dermott, "he could hardly believe it. With a choking voice, he replied, 'Dear cousin, your kindness overcomes me; but I am not ungrateful, and whatever conditions or agreement you may see fit to make, I will do my part toward their fulfilment.'
"'No, my poor Edward,' responded the gentleman; 'formerly my father, as you well remember, made an agreement with you, whereby you could secure your own happiness. That was forfeited; now I make another covenant with you, whereby I promise all the blessings which, by means of my immense estates, I have it in my power to grant. You have nothing to do but to accept of them as freely as they are offered.'"
"O, what a kind man!" exclaimed Helen. "I was afraid he was going to try them with another box."
"If he had," cried Walter, "they wouldn't have been such fools as to touch it, after all they had suffered. If I had been there, 'I should have said, I thank you exceedingly, sir, for your kind offer, but I had rather earn the privilege of living in such a fine mansion. Won't you please to try me in some way, and see if I don't exactly obey your orders.' Then he'd have seen one boy that could walk right up to the mark." Walter drew up his form, and stood resolute and determined.
His father gazed at him with a sad smile; and Anna wondered to see her aunt wipe a tear from her eye.
"What did Edward say?" asked Helen.
"He said nothing. He had no voice in which to utter his thanks; the proposition was beyond what he could realize, from his utter, forlorn, and hopeless wretchedness, to free, full, and entire bliss. Indeed he was lost in wonder, love, and praise. He lifted his eyes, streaming with tears, to his cousin's face, and, catching him by the hand, whispered, 'I accept your offer, and henceforth shall delight to know that all my dependence is upon one I so much esteem and love.'"
"And what did his wife and children say?" urged Walter, more moved than he cared to have seen.
"His wife acknowledged that she was very grateful; but she thought it would be too great an obligation. She told her husband, when their benefactor had gone to make arrangements for the sick man's removal, that she should feel awkward, living in so splendid a place, dependent upon a man with whom she was so little acquainted. And when, with kindling eye, he urged her to give a full and hearty acceptance of so generous an offer, saying that, since he had done so, he already began to feel the comfort and blessedness of his new home, she replied that she would think of it. On the whole she thought she would do so, but not quite yet. When she had decided, she could easily follow him.
"Mary and Lucy, the two daughters of Edward, had sat, through the whole interview with their relative, tightly clasping each other's hands. When the glorious offer of a happy home was extended to them, they rose at once, and going to him, said, 'We gladly, joyfully accept the invitation. We are both of us sadly weary of this wretched life, and are ready to leave it immediately.'
"The oldest boy expressed himself very much as Walter did just now. Notwithstanding the wretchedness of the life he now lived, he had a proud, independent spirit, and he said that if the gentleman would make some kind of a bargain with him, he would gladly exchange his poor hovel for a palace, and all the luxuries it contained; but he wanted to earn it. He would do any thing that was required, however painful; but something he must do, or he could not go. His brother, next in age, said that those were exactly his feelings. He should not wish to live in so elegant a home until he had done something to earn the privilege.
"The gentleman sadly shook his head, and told them the offer was gratuitous, and must be accepted as such, adding, 'If you were to work for me a hundred years, you could never earn such blessings as I am willing freely to bestow.'
"And so, with pride and rebellion in their young hearts, they turned away from him, and determined to live on in their old place.
"Little Freddy, the youngest child, sat by the couch of his father, his little hand striving to wipe the moisture which constantly gathered on the brow of the poor sufferer. As one and another made known their decision, his wan cheek flushed, and a calm resolve passed through his mind. When his brothers turned their backs upon their kind benefactor, he went toward him, and, throwing himself into his embrace, exclaimed, 'O, take me! I love you more than all the world beside. I will go and live with you forever.'"
Mr. Dermott arose, and walked back and forth through the apartment, while the children sat silent and thoughtful.
At length he resumed his seat, and, addressing Anna, asked, "Can you tell me who has prepared for us a glorious home above the skies?"
"Christ," the child seriously answered; "Jesus Christ."
"Yes, he has ransomed us and become the way whereby we may return to our heavenly Father, whom we have offended. There can be no real comparison between the case I have given you and the abounding love and goodness of our Saviour, because, in the first case, I only referred to the well-being of Edward and his family, and the benefits to them in this world, while the blessings we may receive through the redemption of Christ, which will be hereafter explained, will last through all eternity.
"But I hope by this illustration you may be led to view the wonderful love of our heavenly Father toward our guilty race. Paul, in his Epistle to the Ephesians, says he did this 'according to the good pleasure of his will.'
"In some lessons which we have gone over, we have explained to you that when God created the world, he made his whole plan or decree concerning it; and, of course, the system of redemption, as a whole and in its minute details and application, was a part of it. Those savingly interested in this plan he calls elect. Edward's uncle could not know, beforehand, whether any of his relatives would accept his kind offer. But if he had possessed the power of foreknowledge, they would have been equally free to accept his offer.
"But, Walter, can you tell me what this new covenant is called?"
"The covenant of grace."
"What was the object of it? You may use your own words."
"To deliver men from their wretched condition, just as Edward's uncle intended to deliver him and his family from their poverty and distress."
"Yes, and more than this; God offered to raise them to a seat at his right hand, and to the glorious privileges of the sons of God. How can he do this, Helen?"
"Through Christ, who died for us."
"Yes, through the sacrifice of his dear Son, who offered to be our Redeemer."
"Do all gladly accept this salvation?"
Walter held down his head as he softly answered, "No, sir."
"No, many poor guilty sinners would do so if they could earn the right to this happy home. Some do, indeed, think they earn it by outwardly conforming to his requirements, while their hearts are alienated from him; others by loudly professing to be his friends, and to be very zealous in his cause; while still others are so deluded that they lie upon beds of thorns, or scourge themselves with small cords, or go on painful pilgrimages, wearing small stones in their shoes. But all these methods cannot avail them; the salvation is free, without money and without price."
CHRIST THE REDEEMER; OR, THE PARDONED REBELS.
QUESTION XXI.Who is the Redeemer of God's elect?ANSWER. The only Redeemer of God's elect is the Lord Jesus Christ, who, being the eternal Son of God, became man, and so was, and continues to be, God and man, in two distinct natures and one person, forever.
——————
THE explanations connected with the last lesson made a deep impression upon the mind of Walter. During the week following, he was unusually serious and thoughtful, and at length sought his mother's chamber, when he knew her to be alone, and, with tearful eyes, asked, "How can I be sure that God has elected me to be one of his children?"
Mrs. Dermott, with deep emotion, replied, "If you are willing to give your heart to him, and accept Christ as your Saviour, you may be sure of it, my child."
It was, therefore, with prayerful interest that Mr. and Mrs. Dermott met their dear children on the evening appointed for the exercise.
Having heard the answer repeated, the father asked, "Helen, who is the Lord Jesus Christ?"
"He is the Redeemer, the eternal Son of God."
"Do you understand the meaning of that answer?"
Helen shook her head.
"I will answer for you," said her mother. "It means that from all eternity he sustained the relation of Son to the everlasting Father—
"'Thou art the Son of the living God.'
"Twelve years ago, Walter began to sustain the relation of son to your father; and so existence commenced with every son of the human race; the angels also began to be. There was a time when all these did not exist, and another time when they began to be God's children. Jesus Christ, as the son of man, began to exist almost two thousand years ago. But Jesus Christ, as the Son of God, never began to exist. Unto his Son God said,—
"'Thy throne, O God, is forever and ever. A sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre of thy kingdom.'"'And let all the angels of God worship him.'
"These two natures, that of the Son of God, and that of the son of man," added Mr. Dermott, "he unites in the office of the only Redeemer of God's elect. These will continue forever."
"I will illustrate some of these sentiments by another parable. We will suppose, then, that upon a sea-girt isle, there once reigned a great and good king, who had one only and dearly beloved son, the heir to his kingdom and great revenues. The son was associated with his father in every act for the good of the empire, and the most tender, confiding affection existed between them.
"On one occasion, a large number of men associated together to rebel against the government. The knowledge of this coming to the throne, the rebels were tried, found guilty, and expelled from the island.
"Not many months elapsed before a rumor reached the king that these men were engaged in privateering around the island, plundering and then setting fire to vessels either approaching or receding from the shore. This unlawful and wicked course was continued for years, notwithstanding the utmost vigilance of the officers appointed to apprehend them.
"At length there arose a great storm, which lasted for several days. Multitudes of small vessels were driven upon the reefs surrounding the shore, and were rescued by the kindness of the islanders. Toward the close of the third day of the terrible tempest, a large vessel was seen driving furiously toward the rocks. The king, from his palace, gazed upon the scene with feelings of the tenderest compassion. The surf, lashing itself into foam, was dashing furiously toward the shore; and there, at the distance of a mile, lay a noble brig dismasted and in distress.
"Summoning the prince, the king ascended to the tower of his palace, where a powerful glass enabled him to view the awful scene with more distinctness. The distressed mariners were running to and fro on board the vessel, some lashing themselves to spars or pieces of broken masts; others were wringing their hands, or raising their arms imploringly to heaven; while still other's had cast themselves down upon the deck in an attitude of despair.
"With a pallid cheek and a trembling voice, the king announced to his son, who stood at his side, that this vessel contained the company of rebels who had conspired against the throne, and who, for a long period, had been guilty of plundering the sea.
"'Yes, sire,' answered the prince, after having looked through the glass. 'It is indeed so. I can distinctly recognize the ringleaders in the midst of the crew.'
"The king again approached the glass, and gazed in silence upon the wreck. Then hastening to the shore, accompanied by his son, he offered large rewards to those who would go to the rescue of the wrecked and drowning mariners. But no one could be found ready to take his life in his hand, and venture upon the boiling surf, even to obtain the prize.
"At length the prince came forward among the crowd, and, approaching his father, said, 'Here am I, sire; send me.'
"The compassionate heart of the sovereign yearned after his guilty subjects. He longed to rescue them, and restore them to favor. Withdrawing with the prince from the crowd, he cried, 'Go, my son, and my love and blessing shall follow you. Go and tell the poor guilty creatures, I offer them free pardon if they will return to their allegiance, and become dutiful subjects.'
"From his previous knowledge of their character, and of the agencies to be exerted on them, he then told his son who would accept this pardon and be induced to return with him, and, having embraced and blessed him, followed him to the life-boat.
"He then hastened back to the tower, where his eagle eye watched the bark as it floated over the seething, crested waves. Suddenly he cried out in the anguish of his soul. A great wave had struck the frail boat, and it was ingulfed in the angry waters.
"But no; there presently appeared a little speck in the distance. With what intense, breathless anxiety he watched the scene!
"Wiping his dim eyes, he at length perceived that his son had buffeted the waves, and was clinging to the bottom of the boat. But he had hardly begun to breathe more freely, before the same thing occurred again and again. So that when the prince reached the wrecked vessel, he was scarcely able to mount the deck, to which the boat was made fast by means of a long rope.
"The prince made his way along the deck, which was covered with broken pieces of timber, and made known his errand. With the earnest love which had led him to encounter so much danger for their sakes, he now besought them to leave their wrecked and ruined brig, and accept his father's offers of mercy. Those whom the king had mentioned to his son, threw themselves, without reserve, into his arms, surrendering themselves, and all they had, to his will. But the others refused to comply, even preferring to remain on board their craft, which was fast going to pieces. Every tender persuasion was of no avail; and at length, with the chosen few, the prince sadly entered the life-boat to return to the shore.
"But before cutting the line which would destroy the last hope of the poor outlaws, he stretched out his arms toward them, beseeching them, as they valued their own lives, and the sacrifice he had made for them, to lay down their arms in token of their submission to his authority, that he might have the unspeakable pleasure of presenting them all to his father as the fruits of his suffering.
"But all these tender entreaties only made the wrath of the guilty pirates more terrible. With loud cries they bade him begone, hurling their weapons in defiance at the boat, and refusing longer even to listen to his words of love.
"Those who were accompanying the prince, being made willing to accept his mediation with the king, bowed their heads in shame at the insolent conduct of their late companions; scalding tears of anguish and remorse ran down their cheeks as they remembered how recently they had joined in this wicked rebellion. The language of their hearts was, 'O, with what a wonderful love hath he drawn our guilty hearts to himself! What boundless goodness that we are not only saved alive, but pardoned and restored to all the privileges of the kingdom!'
"As they drew near the shore, their emotions increased, and they cried aloud, 'How can we appear in the presence of our justly offended sovereign? Our iniquity seems too great for him to forgive. O, why did we never, till now, view ourselves as vile and guilty before him! Surely our sins have rendered us blind to our own unworthiness, as well as wanting in obedience toward him.'
"'Comfort yourselves, my dear friends,' exclaimed the prince; 'my father has accepted my sufferings and labors as a sacrifice for your guilt, and your pardon is free and entire. Forget, then, the things that are past, and endeavor, by your zeal in his service, to show your gratitude for the favors you have received.'
"When the life-boat, with its precious freight of souls, drew toward the land, many stood back with fear, as they recognized the outlaws; but this emotion was instantly changed to joy, as the prince accompanied them to his father, and presented them as the reward of his toil. 'Here am I, sire, and the people who have been redeemed from death by my agonizing exertions. In your name I have promised that the sentence pronounced against them should be reversed, and that, accepting me as their ransom, they should be admitted to all the privileges of children of a merciful sovereign.'
"Here the pardoned rebels cast themselves down at the feet of the king, confessing their hatred of themselves and the life they had pursued since they departed from his requirements, resolutely declaring their determination henceforth to live lives of obedience and integrity, that they might in some humble degree express their gratitude and love toward him who had been willing to give his life a ransom for theirs.
"When the multitude, who had been crowding near, heard these words, there arose one long-continued shout of rejoicing, in which might be heard these words: 'Our glorious Prince! May he reign over us forever and ever! For his sake we joyfully, exultingly, welcome home those whom he has so loved, and who will help to swell the song of praise to his name forever and ever.'"
While Mr. Dermott had been speaking, Walter's tears silently trickled down his cheeks. He evidently was applying the parable to his own case.
After a moment's pause, the gentleman continued: "We are the rebels against God, the king. Jesus Christ is our prince, who has offered his life a sacrifice for our sins, that we may obtain pardon and peace. Those of us who receive him as our Saviour are his elect, whom he carries in the life-boat of salvation to the kingdom of his Father in heaven."
Dear children, who have all of you violated God's holy law, and are living afar off, having incurred his displeasure, will you not confess and forsake your sins, joyfully embracing his Son as your Prince, your Saviour, and Redeemer?