Extracts from Memory's Page.

BY JEPHTHA.

I.-OUTWARD BOUND.

"I AM sure you ought not to venture on such a night as this; it really is not fit for any human being to be out," exclaimed Mio Cara Sposa, breaking the silence which had reigned for some time.

"Does it snow now?" I inquired, laying down the book I had been perusing.

"Snow! Why, just look out and see for yourself." I turned my head and saw the large flakes driving past the window, while I heard the cold bleak wind howling fiercely round the house. Rising from the fireside I walked to the window; cheerless, indeed, was the prospect without. The snow lay on the ground to a considerable depth, and, mingling with the rain, froze as it accumulated upon the branches of the trees, the sturdy branches of which snapped off frequently with the continually increasing burden. The atmosphere was darkened by the raging storm, and the water from the hills surged rapidly down the narrow lanes with a dull roar, while a fierce north-easter swept furiously over the open country.

"You cannot go, can you?' was queried again.
"I scarcely know," I replied;

a little thing should not set aside

"A little thing, Jephtha! Why, you will be wet through before you get to the water (a place I had to cross); and I do not believe you will have any one to the meeting on such a night as it is; I cannot think any one would venture out unless obliged."

I thought of wet garments, of which I had lately obtained considerable practical knowledge; I thought of ploughing my way homeward in the dark night, in danger from the falling boughs of the trees which over-hung the narrow lanes; looked upon my boots, all of which were perfectly soddened with travelling in the snow; thought of walking several miles through the slough of mingled snow and rain; the lonely country and the piercing cold; and the expedition was invested with anything but a romantic aspect; and flesh and blood was nearly carrying the motion.

"There, now, you had better sit down and take tea at home to-day; I am sure they will not expect you; and, besides, you have been so wet lately that I expect I shall have you laid up, and then I do not know what I should do in this out-landish place; and then there would be no meetings, perhaps, for weeks."

"Forcible reasoning, ma'am, certainly."

I sat down again and looked at the fire, and endeavoured to weigh possibilities. My little wife certainly had the advantage of me in point of reason; flesh and blood argued powerfully; and old unbelief said flatly and positively, there will be no one there; it will only be a fool's errand if you go. O, sweet, sweet words—

"His way was much rougher and darker than mine."

I rose, went into my little study, and asked the Lord to guide His lonely one. But ah! cold without, cold within; no bright gleam of the sunlight of His countenance broke into my soul; no sweet word of promise or consolation. There were the utterances of prayer but not the sweet nearness, not the blessed communion, which cheers the heart and strengthens the soul, and invigorates the whole man for the struggle; it was winter within and winter without; fagged with successive journeys through darkness and storm; no text, no subject if I went. The outer man worn down, the mind jaded, and the soul mourning its own darkness. I stood irresolute and undecided; walked into the little kitchen; took up one boot, and then another; all alike-cold damp, flabby.

"You are not going?" was queried again. One boot was slowly pulled on. Well, really!" was uttered again. The other boot slowly followed; then the cape, the muffler, the hat, the kiss of peace, and out I sallied to battle with the elements without.

II. THE TEMPEST.

Dark were the lowering clouds, loud the hoarse roar of the storm; but as dark, as wild, as fierce, was the conflict within ;— truly it was the hour of the tempter and of the powers of darkness. Bending beneath the wild blast slowly I struggled onwards; and now before the soul passed the images of bygone days-the snug little workshop, the ample salary, the professional fame, the circle of friends, the domestic comforts, the little deposit in the bank-the prospect for old age and sickness. All gone! all gone! And how? Ah, the old Adam rose, the heart felt sick, the spirit rebelled, the enemy came in like a flood; his cursed insinuations injected in the mind produced a perfect chaos in my breast; 1 was enveloped in thick darkness of soul. See, see, said he, what your preachings have come too! You cannot say that God took away your position in society, for that was your own act-you

voluntarily gave it up. Is this, exclaimed the enemy, your Christianity? Is this providing for your own household? Where will you be when sickness overtakes you? Where would the wife you love be if should leave her behind in this world? You had an opportunity you to have provided against all this; God placed you in a position to have anticipated it all; but you have thrown it all away because you fancied He had called you to preach the Gospel. My poor heart sank, the storm howled around me, my feet were soddened with the soft wet snow; it lay on my cape, it beat in my face, the keen blast seemed to pierce me; but keener still o'er my soul swept the sharp taunt," If any man provide not for his own household he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel!" Where is your religion? Give it up, give it up; you know nothing about it; God has permitted you to come out as a preacher to make an example of and a terror to all who presume; He has suffered you to leave all your temporal prospects; He surrounded you with earthly comforts, and you have ungratefully thrown them all away; and now He will leave you to accomplish your own ruin. Your trade, friends, and savings, all gone; you have thrown them away by your own act, and the trifle you now receive is all ordered to bring you to beggary and ruin. You see that the majority of the people will not receive your testimony; your Calvinism is canvassed among them, and they

you,

hate it; many do not scruple to declare that you do not preach the Gospel. Look at all the preachers around, yea, through the country; see what congregations they draw, what kindness they meet with from the people. Can they be all wrong? Can what you call a mixed Gospel be wrong, when its praise is sounded in pulpit and pew, and you, just come out, to set your own notions up in opposition to the whole! Is there no presumption in you? Give it up, give it up. Ah! thought I, what the end will be the Lord only knows! I tried to lift my heart to God; but the heavens seemed as brass and the earth iron. There, said the enemy, God will not hear you; you cannot pray; God hides Himself from you; you are like King Saul-the Lord will answer you no more. You go and talk to the people about religion !! Where is thy God? This is only the beginning of sorrows; this is nothing to what you will experience, when it is made manifest that your religion is like your fancied call to preach the Gospel, self-deception and delusion altogether. Truly, this was the blast of the terrible ones against the wall. Weary, faint, and cast down, I reached my destination, "Dear! dear! dear!" was the salutation which greeted me as I entered the farm-yard. "Well done!" was uttered again by lips shrouded beneath a sou'wester; "well, I am sorry to see you; I was hoping you would not come, for it is not fit for a dog to go out. Glad to see you, though," exclaimed sou'-wester, shaking my hand rather demonstratively; “ to see you; go in, you must be very wet." "Ah, it is rather rough," I replied. "Rather !!!" exclaimed sou'-wester, increasing in tone, "I hardly know how you could face it."

glad

"Well," I replied, "I thought it should not be my fault if there were no meeting."

"Well," replied my friend, "I do not for a moment expect any one will come out to-night; but dry yourself, and we'll have tea." A little chat, a little tea, a few smiles, a good fire, and one began to feel comfortable.

"Dear! what a night," exclaimed sou'-wester, as the wild blast howled round the farmstead, rattling the windows and doors, and sending the smoke from the chimney out into the room.

66

Ah, we shall have no one to-night, I am sure," replied the lady president at the table, "so Mr. J. will have a rest to-night; he will be better here than in that cold chapel; not but what we should be glad to hear him, but it is so miserably cold in there one cannot listen to profit."

"Well, there, we shall see if anybody comes," replied sou'-wester; "when it is time I will go and light one of the lamps, and if anybody comes I will let him know."

do?"

"You will stay here to-night," queried the lady.

"Much obliged, indeed," I replied; "but what will my little wife

"What a pity it is. I do not know how you will find your way in the dark," soliloquised the lady; "it is bad enough in the daylight."

I thought of the journey on the stormy dark night, when the road could only be found by feeling for the hedge-side with my stick; I thought of the comforts of the town we had left; I thought of my little wife's loneliness, in a small detached house in a wild place all alone, with no neighbour or friend, and was just concluding, as I watched the

hands of the old clock escaping over the dial-plate, that my services would be dispensed with, and anticipating an early arrival home, when sou’wester looked in at the door, exclaiming, "One come."

III.-ONE COME.

"Where are you," I enquired, as I left the door of the house. "Here I am," exclaimed a voice, which I recognised as that of my worthy friend of the sou' wester. Here, give me your hand, sir." I reached out my hand in the direction of the voice, for I could distinguish nothing, and felt it grasped in a broad palm, and myself drawn along. "This way, sir, please ;" and emerging from the large wooden gateway I caught a glimpse of the lights of the little chapel. Slush! slush! as near as I could guess, in the middle of the road for a little distance, and I was at the rural Bethel. Splash!!! into a pool of water lying near the little gateway and I was in the sanctuary. The walls humid, the atmosphere damp and cheerless, and one had come !!! O ye who issue from snug vestries to appear before an admiring audience, what think ye of this? The heart, torn with conflicting emotions, sighing in plaintive wail, "O that I knew where I might find him. O that I had the wings of a dove, then would I flee away and be at rest.” No light, no comfort, no text. Was it not presumption? But the Lord never had failed me. ONE had come, and I ascended the little rostrum, glanced round, and there was ! who, although invited to our little meeting, had never appeared among us when the weather had been favourable; but now, upon this wild night had suddenly come in, and as yet was the only one. I took up the hymn book with a-Who can tell? And from our voices rose the sound of devotion

one

"Our God, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come;
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home."

Then a stamping of feet at the door, knocking off the wet snow from the boots, then an addition to our number; another, and another, until nearly a score were scattered about the chapel. The sweet and solemn words of SACRED truth, a little liberty in prayer, the second hymn singing-but no text, no portion; a cold damp upon the forehead; and how the heart went up to God for a portion for myself as well as the people. The hymn finished-now for the text. I opened the Bible mechanically -I could think of nothing. In a state of abstraction I gave out the 92nd Psalm; but which was the text? A pause! My eye caught the 13th verse; I read, "Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God." While I was musing the fire burned; a thought flitted through my mind: Where did they grow before they were planted in the Lord's house? Where were they taken from to be planted there? Then slowly before my mind passed the wild field of nature, in which all are found in their unregenerate state of condemnation and death, out of which no human power could take them, but only the hand of the Omnipotent could pluck them thence, and according to the sovereign will of Him, "who hath mercy on whom He will have mercy," plant them in the sacred enclosures of His grace, by the regenerating power of the Holy Ghost; and each plant thus translated pur