Page images
PDF
EPUB

SEPTEMBER 24.

LESSON XXXIX.

Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity. Acts xiv. 8-18.

PAUL AT LYSTRA.

8. And there sat a certain man at Lystra, impotent in his feet, being a cripple from his mother's womb, who never had walked.

9. The same heard Paul speak: who steadfastly beholding him, and perceiving that he had faith to be healed,

10. Said with a loud voice, Stand upright on thy feet. And he leaped and walked.

11. And when the people saw what Paul had done, they lifted up their voices, saying in the speech of Lycaonia. The gods are come down to us in the likeness of men.

12. And they called Barnabas, Jupiter; and Paul, Mercurius, because he was the chief speaker.

13. Then the priest of Jupiter, which was before their city, brought oxen and garlands unto the gates, and would have done sacrifice with the people.

1876.

14. Which when the apostles, Barnabas and Paul, heard of, they rent their clothes, and ran in among the people, crying out,

15. And saying, Sirs, why do ye these things? We also are men of like passions with you, and preach unto you, that ye should turn from these vanities unto the living God, which made heaven and earth, and the sea, and all things that are therein:

16. Who in times past suffered all nat ons to walk in their own ways.

17. Nevertheless he left not himself without witness, in that he did good, and gave us rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness.

18. And with these sayings scarce restrained they the people, that they had not done sacrifice unto them.

QUESTIONS.

[blocks in formation]

14. When the apostles heard of what the priests intended to do, what did they do? What did they mean by rending their clothes?

15-17. What did they say? What did they mean by saying, We also are men of like passions with you? What by these vanities? Why do they speak of God as the living God? How had He permitted all nations in past ages to walk? What is meant here by all nations? In what way had God permitted this? Though He permitted them thus to live, nevertheless what evidence had He given them of His being and character? Are such temporal blessings still evidences of God's goodness towards us? What effect should they have upon us? How does our Saviour speak of Gou's providential care of us, in Matt. vi. 26-33?

18. What effect had the conduct and speech of Paul and Barnabas on these people? What is meant by scarce restrained them?

[blocks in formation]

COMMENTS.-Paul and Barnabas, 15-17. Men of like passions, etc. By

having been threatened with persecution at Iconium, fled to Derbe and Lys

tra.

8. Lystra was a city of Lycaonia, south-east and not far from Iconium. It was the native place of Timothy. Chap. xvi. 1).

9. As there is no mention of a synagogue at Lystra, it is probable that Paul preached in the market place, where this cripple, perhaps he was also a beggar, was carried, and where he heard Paul preach on more than one occasion. Perceiving that he had faith to be healed. Paul, noticing that the man listened to him attentively, fixed his look closely upon him, if possible to see what was taking place in his soul, and from his eager expression of countenance, inferred that he had faith enough in him and his gospel to be healed.

10. Said with a loud voice. Paul spoke thus to attract the attention of the man, and perhaps also the attention of the people assembled.

Proba

11. The speech of Lycaonia. bly this was a corrupt dialect of Greek, which Paul did not understand. If so, then this fact will explain why Paul and Barnabas did not interfere at once with the intention of the people. They did not know what the people said. The gods have come down to us in the likeness of men. Their gods were deified men, and they believed that they occasionally visited the earth in the forms of

men.

12. Jupiter was the highest and most powerful among the gods, had control over all changes in the heavens, and determined the course of all earthly affairs. Mercurius was the messenger of the gods, and was regarded as the god of eloquence and prudence.

13. There was a statue or temple of Jupiter at or near the chief entrance to the city, where these heathen priests worshipped him. Believing that Jupiter and Mercurius had really come to them in the persons of Paul and Barnabas, they brought these oxen and garlands, or crowns, to offer them as sacrifices, and thus honor and worship them as gods.

14. They rent their clothes. This was a sign, especially among the Jews, of great grief and horror.

this the apostles meant to say, that, instead of being gods, and therefore blessed and immortal, they were simply men, and therefore subject to suffering, sickness and death, like all other men. These vanities. That is, these vain, dead, profitless gods. The living God. In opposition to the dead, vain gods, whom these people worshipped, the apostles speak of the true God as the living God-the God who has life in Himself, and is the author and fountain of all life. All nations-all Gentile or heathen nations. Who in times passed suffered, etc. God permitted all heathen nations to walk in their own way, that is, in ignorance of Him and of His character and will. He had given to them no written law, neither had he sent prophets to instruct them in His true worship, as He had done to the Jews.

18. Scarce restrained. Their conduct and speech prevented the people from offering sacrifices to them, and thus honoring them as gods, but they just succeeded in doing this. The people abstained from doing it very unwillingly; just as people now are with difficulty prevented from doing an evil thing which their hearts are set upon doing.

WE can never feel alone or deserted if we have accustomed ourselves to Divine companionship. The insufficiency and want of human sympathy is remedied by the abiding sense of the fulness and perfection of that love and care which an Almighty Father watches over His children.

COMING to quiet, for a little while, all the week-day toil, noise and strife of life are like islands, green, fruitful, and flower-laden, smiling at one from the midst of wild ocean and stormtossed waves-oases in the sand deserts, with cooling shades and pure water springs for the tired traveler.

PEACE does not dwell in outward things, but within the soul; we may preserve it in the midst of the bitterest pain, if our will remains firm and submissive. Peace in this life springs from acquiescence, not in an exemption from suffering-Fenelon.

THERE are many trees that every year put forth thousands of blossoms, and yet no fruit ever grows upon them. And there are many men who blossom beautifully into words and sentiments, who yet never produce any of the ripe fruits of beneficence. They pity the poor, the needy, the sick, the, perishing. Their hearts bleed for them. They pour out good wishes most volubly when any one is in trouble. They blossom into the most tender expressions of pity and compassion, and often into nice little notes of condolence-but that is all. There is no helpfulness in them for the poor and needy. Now, such good wishes and fragrant blossoms of sentiment will not build a fire in the stove in the poor widow's home, when there are no coals in the cellar; nor put bread and meat on the table when the pantry is empty; nor put warm clothes on the backs of shivering children, nor shoes and stockings on the feet that are bare when the snows are falling.

EUROPEAN LIBRARIES.-The city of St. Petersburg was founded nearly one hundred years after New York, and the imperial library of that capitol contains not less than half a million volumes. The imperial library of France has long had the reputation of being the largest in the world. The collection is put down in round numbers at two millions of volumes. For some years past it has been the ambition of the British nation to have the name of standing first in the world in respect to this matter, and the library of the British Museum has been rapidly augmented to nearly a million of volumes. The annual expenditure in this department is now, we believe, not much short of one hundred thousand dollars. The city of Munich, with a population about twice that of Providence, has in a single collection more than six hundred thousand volumes. Florence, with the same population as Munich, has an aggregate of four hundred thousand volumes in its public libraries.

ENCOURAGEMENT FOR APPRENTICFS.-Thurlow Weed, who was himself an apprentice, and who subsequently

became and still is prominent, thus writes about apprentices who became great men:

Shoemakers' apprentices read with pride that Roger Sherman of Connecticut, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, learned their trade, and that Henry Wilson, Vice President of the United States, was working as a journeyman shoemaker when first elected to the legislature of Massachusetts. Millard Fillmore, a late Vice President of the United States, was an apprentice in a country clothier's establishment. Andrew Johnson, another late Vice President and President of the United States, learned and worked at the tailor's trade. Simon Cameron, formerly Secretary of War and now United States Senator, was originally a printer. David K. Carter, formerly a member of congress from Ohio, now Chief Justice of the Court of the District of Columbia, was an apprentice at Rochester. Several mechanics have been Mayors of the City of New York, prominent among whom James Harper. Daniel Cady, for more were Stephen Allen, Gideon Lee and than thirty years one of the most distinduced, served his apprenticeship and guished lawyers our state ever prountil he was twenty-four years old. a journeyman shoemaker

worked as

The Best Teacher.

He is usually counted the best teacher who is most skillful in bringing his scholars to Christ, and most successful in training them to be steadfast and useful Christians. Dr. Vincent says there are four classes of teachers: 1. Those who leave upon the minds of their pupils, a general impression, but no definite knowledge of which the pupil can make use. 2. Those who succeed in communicating knowledge, but do not provide for its retention by the pupil. 3. Those who communicate knowledge, and fix it in the memories of their pupils, but the knowledge is like seed carefully deposited in a paper or a box. 4. Those who so impart knowledge that it devel ops self-activity and power in the pupil, as seed wisely deposited in the soil, which grows and bears fruit.-Sunday-School World.

The Guardian.

VOL. XXVII.

The Old Camping-Ground.

(A CHAPTER FOR BOYS.)

BY THE EDITOR.

[blocks in formation]

"Do you think we can get some at the same price?"

"O yes, sir. You can get as much as you want."

Just so the boys used to have their baskets and kettles filled by mother.

We will leisurely stroll down the lane. Like the neighboring people the face of the old home has changed. Only with this difference, they have grown old whilst it is growing younger, at least in outward appearance. New buildings in place of old ones, and some old ones repainted. All look as new as then. The old apple trees in the orchard, like many old neighbors, have departed, and younger trees have taken their place. There among these shade trees, in the shadow of the old home, we will sojourn for a season.

We will stop there on the top of this hill in the old lane, in the shade of this locust tree, and rest a few moments I will put the hand-trunk aside of the fence. From a boy I have enjoyed this outlook. It is not as extensive as that from the Bunker Hill monument, or of Eagle's Peak, near Womelsdorf, Pa; still to me it is extensive. From here I see far back into the world of my boyhood. You see its horizon; the boundary encircling it is Lancaster, Chesnut Hill, and elevations towards Millersville and Turkey Hill, Conestoga Centre, Stump-Where'er I turn, whatever realms I roam, town, and Willow Street. Here, at this fence I often stood, then and since, looking musingly over this little world. For The old barn! How new it looks, several miles around here lived our and yet it is fifty years old. Better than neighbors. Once I knew them all, and your Kinder Gardens, the Gymnasium, they knew me. Since then many have or Boat racing, is the barn and barndied. Within a radius of two miles al-yard to a farmer's boy. Here young most every farm-house has witnessed from one to three deaths during the last twenty-five years. Some of these neighbors have now become so old and grayheaded that I have trouble to know them. They still know me, and in their childlike, frank way call me by the name I bore in my boyhood.

"Good morning, little boy. What are you carrying in your kettle ?" "Milk."

"Where did you get it?"

"Down there in that farm-house." "What did you pay?"

"Nothing."

My first, best country ever is at home."

animal life appeals to his sympathetic nature. Kittens, calves, colts, young pigs, pigeons, goslings, young chickens and lambs he cares for and caresses with tender affection. Hungry as he gets, he would rather go without a meal than that any of them should suffer want. They call out and culti vate certain humane qualities—indeed these irrational little animals help to mould and educate the coming man.

Reader, you may follow me, through the winding ways of this old barn. Just as it used to be. There the calves are tied to the little troughs, right back of

their mothers, in the cow stable. The colt stable is empty. The young pigeons are still watching in their cotes for the returning mother to bring them a feast. "These fodder gangs" call up many old memories. There is the old nail above the door to which I used to hang the lantern when almost too small to reach up. For, on winter mornings, a great while before day, did we boys quietly go after our work here in feeding the cattle. Back here is the cross gang through which I carried many an arm full of hay. It is a dark, secluded place, even in day-time. There, where none but the eyes of God saw me, I of ten knelt down with my hat by my side and prayed. On account of its retired location I used it as a "closet." Ever since, my mind attaches a certain sacredness to this dark passage. And for this reason you must allow me to kneel down here a few moments in prayer. I still feel that the God of my boyhood is in this place. It has become a sort of Bethel to my heart.

There is the "hay hole," communicating with the mow above. I must climb up, just as in the days of old. Somehow I cannot climb up so nimbly as of old. With the agility of a cat could I do it then. Surely I am larger and stronger now, but the limbs and joints are no longer used to this kind of work Still, have I not done it well? If it were raining I would climb up on the haymow, lie on my back, and listen to the pattering of the rain on the roof, as we did in the days of yore.

These large mows, filled with hay and straw, afforded an interesting field for exploration. Great was the joy when a nest full of eggs was discovered. In search of these the most fatiguing climbing was undergone. And many a hat bottom was broken out of its place, by doing service as an egg basket.

Let us go a fishing. Not so much for the fish as for the walk. Here under this white oak tree, we will rest a little. You see it stands on the highest point of this hill," the creek hill," we used to call it. The little Conestoga winds along the base of it. With boyish pride I led many a playmate to this spot, to show him "the highest mountain in this part of the world. So I thought then. I find now that it is only a hill, and not

[ocr errors]

very high at that. Right around us lies the hunting ground of our boyhood. Down there is a ravine, once the home of a family of wood-chucks (ground hogs). They had their homes in holes of the earth. During school or working time, Saturday afternoon was given us for pleasure and sport. These ravines used to be a resort for rabbits. With the help of the dogs we would chase them into the wood-chuck holes, then fill up the hole with a trap. Sooner or later the poor rabbit was compelled to come out, when the trap would catch it for us. Now the holes, rabbits and wood-chucks are nearly all gone.

How pleasant to wind along this shaded creek. You see, it is not large. Here, where this old sycamore tree leans over the water, used to be our bathing place. How clean and well-mowed this grassy woodland is. The cattle do this work as well as a lawn-mower. Let us examine a few old beech trees in this lower corner of the woods. For more than fifty years their smooth bark tempted the ambitious youths of the neighborhood to carve their names on them. It is a common ambition to carve one's name at public places. The walls of the principal room in Shakespeare's house, at Stratford on Avon, are covered with closely written names of the obscure and great people of the earth, who have visited the place Even kings and princes scrawled their names in the home of the great dramatist. On the top of Mount Serbal, in Arabia, we came upon a little bottle carefully laid under some loose stones. In opening it we found the names of a few travelers on small pieces of paper, telling us that they had visited the spot before we did. We added our names to their's in order to share their glory thereafter. On the smooth rind of these beech trees the farmer boys of our neighborhood have sought a kindred immortality of name by their rude carvings, for more than three-score years. The oldest dates have been well nigh grown over. Later ones are still clearly seen. One name of a well-known friend, "S. B., 1837," has outlasted the growth, weather and wear of almost forty years.

While musing over the half legible carvings, under the thick shade of these beech trees, I am reminded of a pretty

« PreviousContinue »