out of compensations, and following of the emancipated soul to glory and saying, "It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good." Is there not here also a species of transfiguration? Does not the countenance change? Do not the garments shine? 3. It is the same with the soul when turned from darkness unto light, and from the power of Satan unto God. Like the prodigal son, the man, perhaps, had been spending his substance in riotous living; or, like Gallio, he had cared for none of these things; or, like Saul, he had been exceedingly zealous of the traditions of his fathers; or, like the rich fool, he had been saying, " Soul, take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry." But now the Holy Spirit has wrought in him conviction of sin; now the veil has fallen from his eyes; now he cries out, "What must I do to be saved ?" Whilst he thus mourns and weeps and prays, there rises as it were before his eyes the vision of a bleeding cross, and from Him who hangs thereon, he hears the words, "Look unto me and be ye saved"-"As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even 66 so is the Son of Man lifted up, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life." He looks and lives. At this "glorious appearing" there comes into his mind a "blessed hope." The burden of sin falls off. His garments, whether woven with sin or self-righteousness, are cast away. He believes unto everlasting life. And, "being justified by faith, he has peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." He receives the adoption of a son, and walks in newness of life. Men look upon him; and he is as it were transfigured before them. He was blind, now he sees. He was ignorant, now he is taught of God. He was in darkness, now he is in light. He was clad in "filthy rags," now he wears a spotless robe. He was a child of Satan, he is now a son of God. Such are some of the results of mountain prayers. By Divine intercourse the soul is changed, afflictions are lightened, sorrows are assuaged, and all things are made to work together for good to them that love God and are the called according to his purpose. PART I. A GRINDER'S STORY. IN TWO PARTS.-BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN. LENTY of you know Sheffield by name; but I think those who know it by nature are few and far between. If you tried to give me your impressions of the place, you would most likely begin to talk of a black, smoky town, full of forges, factories, and furnaces, with steamblasts hissing, and Nasmyth hammers thudding and thundering all day long. But there you would stop, although you were right as far as you went. Let me say a little more, speaking as one who knows the place, and tell you that it lies snugly embosomed in glorious hills, curving and sweeping between which are some of the loveliest vales in England. The town is in parts dingy enough, and there is more smoke than is pleasant; but don't imagine that all Sheffield's sons are toiling continually in a choking atmosphere. There is a class of men-a large class, and one that has of late attained to a not very enviable notoriety in Sheffield -I mean the grinders — whose task is performed under far different circumstances; and when I describe one wheel, I am only painting one of hundreds clustering round the busy town, ready to sharpen and polish the blades for which Sheffield has long been famed. Through every vale there flows a stream, fed by lesser rivulets, making their way down little valleys rich in wood and dell. Wherever such a streamlet runs trickling over the rocks, or bubbling amongst the stones, water rights have been established, hundreds of years old; busy hands have formed dams, and the pent-up water is used for turning some huge water-wheel, which in its turn sets in motion ten, twenty, or thirty stones in the long shed beside it, the whole being known in the district as 66 a wheel." For years and years my way to work lay along by a tiny bubbling brook, overhung with trees, up past wheel after wheel, following the streamlet towards its head, higher up the gorge through which it ran-a vale where you might stand and fancy yourself miles from man and his busy doings, as you listened to the silvery tinkle of the water playing amidst the pebbles, the sweet twittering song of birds overhead, or the hum of bees busy amidst the catkins and the blossoms; watched the flashing of the bright water, as the sun glistened and darted amidst the leaves, till on the breeze would come the "plash, plash," of the water-wheel, and the faintly-heard harsh "chirr-r-r-r" of blade upon grindstone, when, recollecting that man was bound to earn his bread in the sweat of his brow, one would leave the beauties around, and hurry on to work. But it was pleasant working where you had only to lift your eyes from the wet and whirling stone, and look out of the open shed window at the bright blue sky and sunshine. There was not much listening to the birds there, amidst the A GRINDER'S STORY. hurrying din of the rushing stones, and the chafing of band, and shriek of steel blade being ground; but the toil seemed pleasanter there, with nothing but the waving trees to stay the light of God's sunshine, and I used to feel free and happy, and able to drink in long draughts of bright, pure air, whenever I straightened myself from my task, and gathered strength for the next spell. I could have been very happy there on that wheel, old and ramshackle place as it was, if people would only have let me. I was making pretty good wage, and putting by a little every week, for at that time it had come into my head that I should like to take to myself a wife. Now, I'd lived nine-and-twenty years without such a thing coming seriously to mind, but one Sunday, when having a stroll out on the Glossop Road with John Ross-a young fellow who worked along with me-we met some one with her mother and father; and from that afternoon I was a changed man. I don't know anything about beauty, and features, and that sort of thing; but I know that Jenny Lee's face was the sweetest and brightest I ever saw; and for the rest of the time we were together I could do nothing but feast upon it with my eyes. John Ross knew the old people; and when I came to reckon afterwards, I could see plainly enough why my companion had chosen the Glossop Road; for they asked us to walk with them as far as their cottage, which was nigh at hand; and we did, and stayed to tea; and then they walked part of the way back in the cool of the evening; while, when we parted, and John Ross began to chatter about them, it seemed as if a dark cloud was settling down over my life, and that all around was beginning to look black and dismal. "You'll go with me again, Harry?" he said to me, as we parted. "I shan't wait till Sunday, but run over on Wednesday night." 11 besides being miserable myself, make two or three others the same? "I'll go to bed and have a good night's rest," I said, "and so forget all about it." How easy it is to make one's arrangements, but how hard sometimes to follow them out! I had no sleep at all that night; and so far from getting up and going to begin the fresh week's work lighthearted and happy, and determined not to pay any more visits along with John Ross, I was dull, disheartened, and worrying myself as to whether Jenny Lee cared anything for my companion. "If she does," I said to myself, "I'll keep away; but if she does not, why may she not be brought to think about me?" Somehow or another, John Ross had always made a companion of me, in spite of our having very different opinions upon certain subjects. He was for, and I was strongly against trades unions. He always used to tell me that he should convert me in time; but although we had been intimate for three years, that time had not come yet. On the contrary, certain outrages that had disgusted the working men, had embittered me against the unions. However, we kept friends; and it was not upon that question that he became my most bitter enemy. After many a long consultation with myself, I had determined to go with Ross to the Lees only once more, and had gone; but somehow that "only once more" grew into another and another visit; till from going with John Ross alone, I got into the habit of calling without him, and was always well received. Jenny was pleasant, and merry, and chatty, and the old folks sociable; and the pleasure derived from these visits smothered the remorse I might otherwise have felt, for I could plainly see, from John Ross's manner, how jealous and annoyed he was. And yet his visits always seemed welcome. There was the same cheery greeting from the old folks, the same ready hand-shake from Jenny; but matters went on until, from being friends, John Ross and I "I don't know; I'll see," I said; and then we furiously hated one another, even to complete parted. I went out that afternoon happy and lighthearted, I came back mad and angry. "He wants me to go with him to talk to the old people, while he can chatter and say empty nothings to that girl, who is as much too good for him as she is for-" "Me!" I said, after a pause, for I seemed to grow sensible all at once, and to see that I was making myself what I called rather stupid. Then I began to take myself to task, and to consider about the state of affairs, seeing how that John Ross's visits were evidently favoured by the old people, perhaps by their daughter, and therefore why was I to thrust myself in the way, and, avoidance; while, from the honest, matured thoughts of later years, I can feel now that it was without cause, Jenny's feelings towards us being as innocent and friendly as ever emanated from the breast of a true-hearted English girl. But we could not see that, and in turn accused her of lightness and coquetry, of playing off one against the other, and thought bitterly of much that was kindly, true, and well meant. As may be supposed, such feelings bore bitter fruit. John Ross accused me of treachery and sowing dissension, ending by desiring, with threats, that I should go to the Lees no more; while I, just as angry, declared that unless forbidden by Jenny, I should go there as frequently as I desired. What followed may easily be imagined. We came to blows. It was during dinner-hour, and the wheel was stopped; we had been talking by the dam-side, and at last, when in his anger, he had struck me, I had furiously returned the blow; then more passed, and after a sharp struggle, I shook myself free, when, unable to save himself, John Ross fell heavily into the deep water, and plunged out of sight for a few moments. But there was no danger, for as he came up he was within reach, and stretching out my hand, he YEARS E is great: not as I would have While my world was yet a green When from my own fancy I portrayed (As he toyed before me, switch in Urging forward his ideal charger With a lusty treble; and I said, In the fight, a glorious murk half dimmed For a time-drawn face who'd care to see? AFTER. But his bearing spake the lord commander, In the grander wars of God he fights, His then was the right, as mine the wrong, quest; So God gives to him a sweeter conquest, B. A WORD UPON ENVY. BY THE REV. W. M. STATHAM. NVY is one of the most despicable | Every passion tends to incarnation in some way. of passions. There is scarcely a Evil emotion turns to action, and becomes emcrime to which it will not lead its bodied in ignoble deeds! So deceitful is envy in its victims! It was envy that robbed operation, and so successful in its harm, that the the poor Naboth of his vineyard, question is asked in Scripture, "Who can stand and added murder to the theft. It was envy before envy ?" It undermines the very ground that led the guilty Absalom to desire the throne you are standing upon; it breathes inuendoes of his father David. It destroys all that is best against your character and reputation, which, and noblest in character. So subtle is it in its light as air to utter, are strong as iron and workings, that we learn on the highest testi- sharp as steel, to do you damage. Yes; envy mony that, "Envy is rottenness of the bones:" will depreciate the character it cannot publicly it eats out all honour and manliness; it gives defame; it will explain virtues to be vices in sleepless nights and restless days. Moreover, disguise; it will sneer with the lip and stab with envy is utterly useless; it helps nobody, it effects the suggestion of an evil hint in your absence, no alteration, it wins no goal. As we read in whilst in your presence it will admire and apJob, "it slayeth the silly one;" and all sensible plaud. people must feel that there is marvellous silliness in envy. But if the indulgence of envy does us no good, it is calculated to do other people much harm. That the envious pay the penalty in their own misery, does not mitigate the wrong they do to others. It does help, indeed, to vindicate the ways of God to men, as it shows us the Divine A WORD UPON ENVY. hand dispensing, even in this world, to each man according to his sin! But the misery they feel does not atone for the misery they inflict. Envy is one of the basest of passions: it is the essence of devilism. By it Satan lost his seat in heaven; and by it men and women have, through the long centuries, sinned and suffered in endless ways. 13 member that temptation is always a relative term. Temptation is not the same to two persons, any more than disease is; one may be receptive of it through a bad state of the system, the other may not. So is it with temptation. Where there is much envy there is little new life. The new life of a Christian is his greatest safeguard. So long as he only fears sin his safety is small; Now, the Bible speaks of the envy of sinners when he hates it then is he secure. We have no as one of the sorriest envies of all, and says, moral police with us in the walks of life to re"Let not thine heart envy sinners." Yet, what strain us and control us. We are made children multitudes do! There is something so fascinating and then we are safe. The new life is in the about the exterior of gaiety and vice, that the measure of its degree the measure of our safety. treacherous heart turns with a smile to the fair Many things would be no temptation to you now, face of a fallen world. The temptation to envy which, if you look back, would have been so once. certainly exists! Who shall say he never heard As a child you were tempted to idleness, and sin's seductive whisper with a longing heart? Sin punished with a lesson; now, your best holiday seems to pay well: its returns are quick and, to is a book. Your tastes have changed. Thus it is a certain extent, sure. When you disregard con- with a true Christian. If he is ever hanging science, Christ, religion, virtue, purity, nobleness, about the outskirts of forbidden pleasure grounds, honour, heaven, you seem to get rid of a whole and keeping a longing eye on forbidden fruit, he cohort of restraining powers-to be able to sin, is a very Liliputian Christian indeed, and his fall and enjoy it-every hedge is broken down, and is not very far off; but if he finds the new life thought may run riot in the fields of imagination, growing in him, all is well. This sphere of envy, and conduct follow unbridled in the way. Take however, we none of us can see. The sinner's the position of the Christian. He, too, could sin inner self we cannot see, or we should not be and enjoy it, if it were not for his conscience, tempted to envy him at all. Envy would die like his vows, his love and devotion to Christ. Let a noxious flower in the east wind, if we could see it not be supposed that the Egypt he has once the experiences of others. Many might have left never attracts him again. The writer of a been found to envy Solomon his power to satisfy recent book shows how the old scenes would desire in every sphere of pleasure. I dare say often live again in the memory of the Corinthian many around him did envy him. I think it is convert-how imagination would paint the old probable the Queen of Sheba did; possibly even heathen pageantry once more-how the undu- the prime minister of the neighbouring Egypt latory limbs of the graceful dancers in the pagan did. But God has inspired Solomon to write us festivals, with multiform aspects of the heathen- his inner history, and a sadder heart never lived. dom he had left, would fill his vision again—and Envy not sinners, is the testimony of Solomon. in weak moments he would be very temptable. The couch on which they repose has no rest to And how true it is now to us all that this world, correspond to it in the heart. The brightness of on its sinful side, is not void of attractiveness. the eye has no co-existence of gladness in the Only the hypocrite passes on as if it were nought spirit. Envy not! You remember who made to him: the Christian man says, "If I am to that nature of man's, now fallen so low. It was stand here at all, to live at all, I must watch and made by God, and nothing but God can satisfy it. pray, lest I enter into temptation." And the That broken arch of the inner temple reverberates wise man, when he feels envy rising in his heart, no music now-there are hollow echoes in it, that does not say, "Oh! this is only a little thought; is all. Envy not! Enter within, and over every I must wait till it germinates before I uproot it!" | Christless heart-the rich, the proud, the fawned No; he goes at once to his Redeemer-to his cross-to die with Jesus there-that he may be crucified to the world—that he may no more envy sir, when he sees how it betrayed and crucified his Lord. But the secret sphere of envy is to be seen. Let not thine heart envy sinners. There are none of us upon whom temptations fall like forks of flame on fields of ice. None of us can say, "The prince of this world cometh and hath nothing in me." It is because there is something in us that the temptation becomes a power. Let us re on, the gay-there is written, "ALL is vanity and vexation of spirit." Envy not the oppressor, and choose none of his ways. His hands may be full of gains, but not so full as his heart is of pains, or shall we not rather say of latent powers and possibilities of pain. Envy not the merry shout of the wicked; even in laughter the heart is sorrowful, and the end of that mirth is heavi ness. One certain specific as a cure for envy ought certainly to be found in the consideration of the true and real pleasures within the reach of us all. |