once. "And those who think," he says, "that in such circumstances labour protracted throughout a long day can be other than torture, would do well to try. How these poor hands of mine burnt and beat at night at this time, as if an unshaped heart had been stationed in every finger; and what cold chills used to run, sudden as electric shocks, through the feverish frame." But he did not neglect opportunities of self-improvement. Neither of these great men, however, contended with such oppressive difficulties and crushing sorrows as John Kitto, who, in his thirteenth year, while assisting his father at his day's work, and carrying a load of slates to the roof of a house they were repairing, fell on the pavement below, a distance of thirty-five feet, and woke, after two weeks' unconsciousness, to find himself wholly deaf. After resorting to various pitiful expedients, such as wading in a pool for old bits of iron and rope, and selling labels to humble shop and lodging-house keepers, in the hope of gaining a few pence with which to supply his craving for books, he was removed to a workhouse. His biographer (Ryland) tells us that his despair at the restraint imposed was great, how could he live without his much-loved books? But he patiently plodded, making in a year "seventy-eight pairs of list shoes, besides mending many pairs." From his grandmother, to whose care he had been consigned by his thriftless, intemperate father, when very young, and whom extreme poverty alone had compelled to give him up,-he received occasional help to defray the sum of twopence weekly for the loan of books. Who can read without emotion the poor boy's words after her death: "Father wrote, you shall never want twopence the week. Was not this kind? Very kind, I think. I shall have no occasion to put their kindness in this last instance to the test as yet; but will this kindness last? Will they not, when they think the edge of my grief is blunted, relapse into their former indifference?" Before his death, at the age of fifty, John Kitto was one of the most able and brilliant of Oriental scholars. His numerous works explaining the Scriptures commanded the admiration of distinguished divines, while his "Daily Bible Illustrations" on the Old and New Testaments, enriched by years of travel and residence in the East, as well as careful observation and study (the demand for which, in America, has lately caused its second republication there), have thrown more light and interest round the sacred volume than those of any other commentator. Dr. Eadie, the Scottish expositor, says of them: 66 They are, in fact, the cream of all that Dr. Kitto has written. There is a special charm about them, and a vein of serious instruction runs through them. He writes with earnestness and living power, and the result of his travels, experience, and research, suffer no deterioration from being moulded anew in the fire of a devout soul, and set in the framework of an ingenuous and healthful piety." His life is one of the most intensely interesting and instructive we have ever read. "How many with his infirmity would have sunk into objects of pity and contempt-would have fallen into the dregs of society, and disappeared in a nameless tomb, in the pauper's or stranger's corner of the graveyard! It is not uncommon for persons with such a defect, to become sullen and even savage-out of harmony with themselves, and in antagonism with all about them. Byron's lameness was an evil incomparably less than Kitto's deafness, and yet it so soured his lordship's temper that he could not endure an unwitting allusion to his halt. Shut out from intercourse with society, Kitto never learned to hate it. Cheerless and homeless, a butt to the wilder boys, sometimes pitied and sometimes slighted, he maintained a calm and firm temper; and he could speak and write of his infirmity with the analytical precision of a physiologist, and the quiet resignation of a child of God, to whom all things work together for good. LUTHER'S SNOW SONG. ON a cold, dark night, when the wind was blowing hard and the snow was falling fast, Conrad, a worthy citizen of a little town in Germany, sat playing his flute, while Ursula, his wife, was preparing supper. They heard a sweet voice singing outside : "Foxes to their holes have gone, But I wander here alone, And for me there is no rest." Tears filled the good man's eyes, as he said, "What a fine, sweet voice! What a pity it should be spoiled by being tried in such weather!" "I think it is the voice of a child. Let us open the door and see," said his wife, who had lost a little boy not long and whose heart was opened to take pity on the little before, er. wander Conrad opened the door, and saw a ragged child, who said, Charity, good sir, for Christ's sake!" "Come in, my little one," said he. "You shall rest with me for the night." The boy said, "Thank God!" and entered. The heat of the room made him faint, but Ursula's kind care soon revived him. They gave him some supper, and then he told them he was the son of a poor miner, and wanted to be a scholar. He wandered about and sang, and lived on the money people gave him. His kind friends would not let him talk much, but sent him to bed. When he was asleep they looked in upon him, and were so pleased with his pleasant countenance that they determined to keep him, if he was willing. In the morning they found that he was only too glad to remain with them. They sent him to school, and afterwards he went into a monastery. There one day he found a Bible, which he read, and learned the way of life. The sweet voice of the little singer became the strong echo of the good news-"Justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ." Conrad and Ursula, when they took that little street-singer into their house, little thought they were nursing the great champion of the Reformation. The poor child was Martin Luther. The following is the song which Luther sung on that memorable night : "Lord of Heaven! lone and sad, I would lift my heart to Thee; Gracious Father, look on me; And will never fear to tread And for me there is no rest. "If I live, He'll be with me; He'll not leave me, I will trust Him, And my heart no fear shall know. Sin and sorrow I defy, For on Jesus I rely." CONFIDENCE IN GOD. "Their strength is to sit still."—Isa. xxx. 7. 66 Ar the time when these words were written, the people of Israel were threatened by an invasion from the King of Assyria. Instead of putting their confidence in God, and diligently exerting themselves in their own defence, they idly went down to Egypt for assistance, and made an alliance with idolaters and heathens. This was a very heavy expense. They had to drain their country of loads of treasure, and to impoverish themselves, in order to purchase help from Egypt. But it was all in vain. Disobedience is sure to end in disappointment, vexation, and ruin. 'They were all ashamed of a people that could not profit them, nor be a help or profit, but a shame, and also a reproach. The burden of the beasts of the south, into the land of trouble and anguish, from whence come the young and old lion, the viper and fiery flying serpent, they will carry their riches upon the shoulders of young asses, and their treasures upon the haunches of camels, to a people that shall not profit them. For the Egyptians shall help in vain, and to no purpose: therefore, have I cried concerning this, Their strength is to sit still." 66 therefore," saith the prophet, "have I cried concerning this;" this is my earnest solemn appeal and cry concerning this matter to my fellow-countrymen, "Their strength is to sit still." Their real hope, their true refuge is in God: He is a Rock, His work is perfect; blessed are all they that trust in Him. Let them trust in His power, submit to His will, follow His guidance, and they shall find strength, and peace, and rest for their souls. "Their strength is to sit still.” It is not meant that we are to sit down and idly neglect the duties of our station. From the fall, it has been appointed that "in the sweat of thy face thou shalt eat bread." And the very time has been fixed, "Six days shalt thou labour." And under the Gospel we are commanded to "labour, working with our hands the thing that is good." And "if any man will not work, neither shall he eat." In every station in life industry is an ornamental grace, a Christian duty. "Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." And how great a blessing rests upon diligence. In all labour there is profit." Joseph's brethren were preferred because they were men of activity (Gen. xlvii. 6); and Jeroboam was made a ruler in Judah because Solomon noticed "the young man that he was industrious." (1 Kings xi. 28.) Let us then be "dili gent," "redeeming the time," working while it is day, improving every privilege afforded us, cultivating every talent. For we know that idleness is the path of danger; that if the proud man is Satan's throne, the idle man is Satan's pillow; that our idle days are the devil's busy ones; and that "the hand of the diligent," and that only, "maketh rich," whether for this world or the world to come. It is not meant that we are to sit still and bring forth no good works, pleasant and acceptable to God. Our Redeemer has set us an example, for He "went about doing good." And at the last day we cannot but observe how good works, the fruits of faith and love, are met and rewarded. Neither is it meant that we are to sit still in seeking the salvation of our souls. Quite true is it that salvation is the gift of God, and that it is "by grace ye are saved through faith; and that not of ourselves; it is the gift of God." (Eph. ii. 8.) Still, we are to "work out our own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure.' (Phil. ii. 12, 13.) We must "run the race," fight the good fight of faith," ""strive for the mastery," 66 all diligence to make our calling and election sure.” The Visitor's Note Book. DAILY PRAYER. 66 use AN aged minister once gave some advice to a young Christian. It was this: "Never neglect, never forget, secret daily prayer. It is here that the Christian always loses ground. Neglect this, and you cannot fail to grow cold and indifferent. Never let a day pass over your head without earnest prayer." The good old man is dead, but the words he uttered may serve as a warning to more than one, especially to the young. Never neglect secret prayer. Are you busy? Do you excuse yourself because you are so hurried every day? Remember who gives you time. Are you well and strong? Thank God for health. Are you sick? Surely your heart must frame petitions to Him who holds life and death in His hand. Are you exposed to temptations? There is no safeguard like prayer. Have you neglected this duty? Take up again the broken threads. Have you never begun ? "Life is short and time is fleeting." Do not neglect secret prayer. |