Earlier text: ON DRESSTENT MEETINGS.
By Joseph Bates
DEAR BRO. WHITE:—We have now closed our third meeting in Me. We commenced in Brewer, some two miles from the city of Bangor, June 15th, and continued to the evening of the 17th, according to appointment in the Review. Our meetings were thin, but peaceable until the first day of the week. In the afternoon it was judged that we could not accommodate more than half that came. Many of the young men and boys soon began to manifest a disorderly spirit. They seemed for a while to disregard the earnest entreaties of our brethren, to cease their loud talking and singing, that the meeting might be conducted with order and propriety. Some of their fellow-citizens interposed their authority also. But after all there was at times a manifest unwillingness, especially with the big boys, to lose such a good opportunity as they then seemed to have, of showing the faculty and judgment of their parents in training up children in the way they will go, in these last days. 2 Tim. iii, 2. Many that were present seemed very anxious to hear, and with ourselves were at times much annoyed by their disorderly conduct. At 6 P. M., we came together again and enjoyed a quiet waiting before the Lord. I hope our labor was not all in vain in Brewer. I trust the brethren and sisters who labored so unceasingly to have the sacred truths of God spread out before their neighbors and friends, will not lose their reward. Our next meeting was in Canaan, 40 miles from Bangor. On our way there we passed through Palmyra, and called on your aged father and mother. They pressed me to tarry longer, and seemed much disappointed when I told them I could not stop long enough for them to prepare a supper for me. They were expecting to see you during the season. Our Tent was erected in Bro. Robert Barnes' front yard, a very pleasant and quiet place. On First-day our congregation numbered about 500. They listened attentively, and many acknowledged the Sabbath of the Bible. A lawyer from Palmyra, while listening to a discourse on the Sabbath, said to one of our Brn. near him, you have the truth on that subject. The church was refreshed and much cheered, especially so, to see their neighbors and friends come up to the meeting to hear for themselves. The church in C. have been passing through a series of trials which will ultimately prove for their good if they hold fast their confidence in God. Our third meeting which closed last evening was held in Brunswick, some 70 miles from Canaan. One of the citizens gave the Brn. permission to erect the Tent on his building lot in the town. Thus it stood undisturbed. The towns of Brunswick and Topsham are so contiguous that we held our prayer-meetings (with one exception) in the latter at Bro. S. Howland's, and then passed over the river to the preaching meetings in the latter. The people at first came rather cautiously, but increased in numbers and interest to the close, and listened with attention, and we trust to some profit. A number of the church were here from Portland. They with the brethren and sisters here were strengthened and much encouraged to continue their efforts to help spread the precious truths of God, designed for these last days. Many pressed around the stand to examine our books, quite a number were furnished with them, which enables them to continue to investigate and learn our position in the third angel's message. Bro. Barr has gone on with the Tent to erect it on Paris Hill, for our next, and probably last meeting for the present in Me. We thank and praise God for his unceasing care, and kind protection he still manifests for his church and people, and restraining the powers that be, until the 144,000 are sealed with the seal of the living God. THE CELESTIAL RAILROAD.
By Nathaniel Hawthorne
Nor a great while ago, passing through the gate of dreams, I visited that region of the earth in which lies the famous city of Destruction. It interested me much to learn that, by the public spirit of some of the inhabitants, a railroad has recently been established between this populous and flourishing town and the Celestial City. Having a little time upon my hands, I resolved to gratify a liberal curiosity by making a trip thither. Accordingly, one fine morning, after paying my bill at the hotel, and directing the porter to stow my luggage behind a coach, I took my seat in the vehicle and set out for the station house. It was my good fortune to enjoy the company of a gentleman—one Mr. Smooth-it-away—who, though he had never actually visited the Celestial City, yet seemed as well acquainted with its laws, customs, policy, and statistics, as with those of the city of Destruction, of which he was a native townsman. Being, moreover, a director of the railroad corporation, and one of its largest stockholders, he had it in his power to give me all desirable information respecting that praiseworthy enterprise.5 Our coach rattled out of the city, and at a short distance from its outskirts, passed over a bridge of elegant construction, but somewhat too slight, as I imagined, to sustain any considerable weight. On both sides lay an extensive quagmire, which could not have been more disagreeable, either to sight or smell, had all the kennels of the earth emptied their pollution there. "This," remarked Mr. Smooth-it-away, "is the famous Slough of Despond—a disgrace to all the neighborhood; and the greater that it might so easily be converted into firm ground." "I have understood," said I, "that efforts have been made for that purpose from time immemorial." "Very probably—and what effect could be anticipated from such unsubstantial stuff?" cried Mr. Smooth-it-away. "You observe this convenient bridge. We obtained a sufficient foundation for it by throwing into the Slough some editions of books of morality, volumes of French philosophy and German rationalism, tracts, sermons, and essays of modern clergymen, extracts from Plato, Confucius, and various Hindoo sages, together with a few ingenious commentaries upon texts of Scripture; all of which, by some scientific process, have been converted into a mass like granite. The whole bog might be filled up with similar matter." It really seemed to me, however, that the bridge vibrated and heaved up and down in a very formidable manner; and spite of Mr. Smooth-it-away's testimony to the solidity of its foundation, I should be loth to cross it in a crowded omnibus, especially if each passenger were encumbered with as heavy luggage as that gentleman and myself. Nevertheless, we got over without accident, and soon found ourselves at the station house. This very neat and spacious edifice is erected on the site of the little Wicket Gate, which formerly, as all old pilgrims will recollect, stood directly across the highway, and by its inconvenient narrowness, was a great obstruction to the traveler of liberal mind and expansive stomach. A large number of passengers were already at the station house, awaiting the departure of the cars. By the aspect and demeanor of the persons, it was easy to judge that the feelings of the community had undergone a very favorable change in reference to the celestial pilgrimage. It would have done Bunyan's heart good to see it. Instead of a lonely and ragged man with a huge burthen on his back, plodding along sorrowfully on foot while the whole city hooted after him, here were parties of the first gentry and most respectable people in the neighborhood setting forth toward the Celestial City as cheerfully as if the pilgrimage were merely a Summer tour. Among the gentlemen were characters of deserved eminence, magistrates, politicians, and men of wealth, by whose example religion could not but be greatly recommended to their meaner brethren. In the ladies' apartment, too, I rejoiced to distinguish some of those flowers of fashionable society, who are so well fitted to adorn the most elevated circles in the Celestial City. There was much pleasant conversation about the news of the day, topics of business, politics, or the lighter matters of amusement; while religion, though indubitably the main thing at heart, was thrown tastefully into the back-ground. Even an infidel would have heard little or nothing to shock his sensibility. One great convenience of the new method of going on pilgrimage I must not forget to mention. Our enormous burthens, instead of being carried on our shoulders as had been the custom of old, were all snugly deposited in the baggage car, and as I was assured, would be delivered to their respective owners at the journey's end. Another thing, likewise, the benevolent reader will be delighted to understand. It may be remembered that there was an ancient feud between Prince Beelzebub and the keeper of the Wicket Gate, and that the adherents of the former distinguished personage were accustomed to shoot deadly arrows at honest pilgrims while knocking at the door. This dispute, much to the credit, as well of the illustrious potentate above mentioned, as of the worthy and enlightened directors of the railroad, has been pacifically arranged on the principle of mutual compromise. The Prince's subjects are now pretty numerously employed about the station house, some in taking care of the baggage, others in collecting fuel, feeding the engines, and such congenial occupations; and I can conscientiously affirm that persons more attentive to their business, more willing to accommodate, or more generally agreeable to the passengers, are not to be found on any railroad. Every good heart must surely exult at so satisfactory an arrangement of an immemorial difficulty. "Where is Mr. Great-heart?" inquired I. "Beyond a doubt the directors have engaged that famous old champion to be chief conductor on the railroad?" "Why no;" said Mr. Smooth-it-away, with a dry cough. "He was offered the situation of brakeman; but to tell you the truth, our friend Great-heart has grown preposterously stiff and narrow in his old age. He has so often guided pilgrims over the road on foot that he considers it a sin to travel in any other fashion. Besides, the old fellow had entered so heartily into the ancient feud with Prince Beelzebub that he would have been perpetually at blows or ill language with some of the Prince's subjects, and thus have embroiled us anew. So, on the whole, we were not sorry when honest Great-heart went off to the Celestial City in a huff, and left us at liberty to choose a more suitable and accommodating man. Yonder comes the conductor of the train. You will probably recognize him at once." The engine at this moment took its station in advance of the cars, looking, I must confess, much more like a sort of mechanical demon, that would hurry us to the infernal regions, than a laudable contrivance for smoothing our way to the Celestial City. On its top sat a personage almost enveloped in smoke and flame, which—(not to startle the reader)—appeared to gush from his own mouth and stomach as well as from the engine's brazen abdomen. "Do my eyes deceive me?" cried I. "What on earth is this? A living creature? If so, he is own brother to the engine that he rides upon?" "Poh, poh, you are obtuse," said Mr. Smooth-it-away, with a hearty laugh. "Don't you know Apollyon, Christian's old enemy, with whom he fought so fierce a battle in the Valley of Humiliation? He was the very fellow to manage the engine, and so we have reconciled him to the custom of going on pilgrimage, and engaged him as chief conductor." "Bravo—bravo!" exclaimed I, with irrepressible enthusiasm. "This shows the liberality of the age. This proves, if anything can, that all musty prejudices are in a fair way to be obliterated. And how will Christian rejoice to hear of this happy transformation of his old antagonist. I promise myself great pleasure in informing him of it when we reach the Celestial City." The passengers being all comfortably seated, we now rattled away merrily, accomplishing a greater distance in ten minutes than Christian probably trudged over in a day. It was laughable while we glanced along, as it were, at the tail of a thunderbolt, to observe two dusty foot-travelers in the old pilgrim guise, with cockle shell and staff, their mystic rolls of parchment in their hands, and their intolerable burthens on their backs. The preposterous obstinacy of these honest people in persisting to groan and stumble along the difficult pathway, rather than take advantage of modern improvements, excited great mirth among our well-brotherhood. We greeted the two pilgrims with many pleasant gibes and a roar of laughter; whereupon they gazed at us with such woful and absurdly compassionate visages, that our merriment grew ten-fold more obstreperous. Apollyon, also, entered heartily into the fun, and contrived to flirt the smoke and flame of the engine, or of his own breath, into their faces, and envelope them in an atmosphere of scalding steam. These little practical jokes amused us mightily, and doubtless afforded the pilgrims the gratification of considering themselves martyrs. At some distance from the railroad, Mr. Smooth-it-away pointed to a large antique edifice, which, he observed, was a tavern of long standing, and had formerly been a noted stopping place for pilgrims. In Bunyan's road-book it is mentioned as the Interpreter's House. "I have long had a curiosity to visit that old mansion," remarked I. "It is not one of our stations, as you perceive," said my companion. "The keeper was violently opposed to the railroad; and well he might be, as the track left his house of entertainment on one side, and thus was pretty certain to deprive him of all his reputable customers. But the foot-path still passes his door, and the old gentleman now and then receives a call from some simple traveler, and entertains him with fare as old-fashioned as himself." Before our talk on this subject came to a conclusion, we were rushing by the place where Christian's burthen fell from his shoulders, at the sight of the cross. This served as a theme for Mr. Smooth-it-away, Mr. Live-for-the-world, Mr. Hide-sin-in-the-heart, and Mr. Scaly-conscience, and a knot of gentlemen from the town of Shun-repentance, to descant upon the inestimable advantages resulting from the safety of our baggage. Myself, and all the passengers indeed, joined with great unanimity in this view of the matter; for our burthens were rich in many things esteemed precious throughout the world; and especially, we each of us possessed a great variety of favorite habits, which we trusted would not be out of fashion, even in the polite circles of the Celestial City. It would have been a sad spectacle to see such an assortment of valuable articles tumbling into the sepulchre. Thus pleasantly conversing on the favorable circumstances of our position as compared with those of past pilgrims, and of narrow-minded ones at the present day, we soon found ourselves at the foot of the Hill Difficulty. Through the very heart of this rocky mountain a tunnel has been constructed of most admirable architecture, with a lofty arch and a spacious double track; so that unless the earth and rocks should chance to crumble down, it will remain an eternal monument of the builder's skill and enterprise. It is a great though incidental advantage, that the materials from the heart of the Hill Difficulty have been employed in filling up the Valley of Humiliation; thus obviating the necessity of descending into that disagreeable and unwholesome hollow. "This is a wonderful improvement, indeed," said I. "Yet I should have been glad of an opportunity to visit the Palace Beautiful and be introduced to the charming young ladies—Miss Prudence, Miss Piety, Miss Charity, and the rest—who have the kindness to entertain pilgrims there." "Young ladies!" cried Mr. Smooth-it-away, as soon as he could speak for laughing. "And charming young ladies! Why, my dear fellow, they are old maids every soul of them—prim, starched, dry and angular—and not one of them, I will venture to say, has altered so much as the fashion of her gown, since the days of Christian's pilgrimage." "Ah, well," said I, much comforted, "then I can very well dispense with their acquaintance." The respectable Apollyon was now putting on the steam at a prodigious rate, anxious perhaps to get rid of the unpleasant reminiscences connected with the spot where he had so disastrously encountered Christian. Consulting Mr. Bunyan's road-book, I perceived that we must now be within a few miles of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, into which doleful region, at our present speed, we should plunge much sooner than seemed at all desirable. In truth, I expected nothing better than to find myself in the ditch on one side, or the quag on the other. But, on communicating my apprehensions to Mr. Smooth-it-away, he assured me that the difficulties of this passage, even in its worst condition, had been vastly exaggerated, and that, in its present state of improvement, I might consider myself as safe as on any railroad in christendom. Even while we were speaking, the train shot into the entrance of this dreaded valley. Though I plead guilty to some foolish palpitations of the heart during our headlong rush over the causeway here constructed, yet it were unjust to withhold the highest encomiums on the boldness of its original conception, and the ingenuity of those who executed it. It was gratifying, likewise, to observe how much care had been taken to dispel the everlasting gloom and supply the defect of cheerful sunshine, not a ray of which has ever penetrated among these awful shadows. For this purpose, the inflammable gas, which exudes plentifully from the soil, is collected by means of pipes, and thence communicated to a quadruple row of lamps along the whole extent of the passage. Thus a radiance has been created, even out of the fiery and sulphurous curse that rests for ever upon the valley; a radiance, hurtful, however, to the eyes, and somewhat bewildering, as I discovered by the changes which it wrought in the visages of my companions. In this respect, as compared with natural daylight, there is the same difference as between truth and falsehood; but if the reader has ever travelled through the dark valley, he will have learned to be thankful for any light that he could get; if not from the sky above, then from the blasted soil beneath. Such was the red brilliancy of these lamps that they appeared to build walls of fire on both sides of the track, between which we held our course at lightening speed, while a reverberating thunder filled the valley with its echoes. Had the engine run off the track, (a catastrophe, it is whispered, by no means unprecedented,) the bottomless pit, if there be any such place, would undoubtedly have received us. Just as some dismal fooleries of this kind had made my heart quake, there came a tremendous shriek careering along the valley as if a thousand devils had burst their lungs to utter it, but which proved to be merely the whistle of the engine on arriving at a stopping place.6 The spot where we had now paused is the same that our friend Bunyan—a truthful man, but infected with many fantastic notions—has designated, in terms plainer than I like to repeat, as the mouth of the infernal region. This, however, must be a mistake, inasmuch as Mr. Smooth-it-away, while we remained in the smoky and lurid cavern, took occasion to prove that Tophet has not even a metaphorical existence. The place, he assured us, is no other than the crater of a half extinct volcano, in which the directors had caused forges to be set up for the manufacture of railroad iron. Hence also is obtained a plentiful supply of fuel for the use of the engines. Whoever had gazed into the dismal obscurity of the broad cavern mouth, whence, ever and anon darted huge tongues of dusky flame, and had seen the strange, half shaped monsters, and visions of faces horribly grotesque into which the smoke seemed to wreathe itself, and had heard the awful murmurs, and shrieks, and deep shuddering whispers of the blast, sometimes forming itself into words almost articulate—would have seized upon Mr. Smooth-it-away's comfortable explanation as greedily as we did. The inhabitants of the cavern, moreover, were unlovely personages, dark, smoke-begrimed, generally deformed, with mis-shapen feet, and a glow of dusky redness in their eyes, as if their hearts had caught fire, and were blazing out of the upper windows. It struck me as a peculiarity that the laborers at the forge and those who brought fuel to the engine, when they began to draw short breath, positively emitted smoke from their mouth and nostrils. Among the idlers about the train, most of whom were puffing cigars which they had lighted at the flame of the crater, I was perplexed to notice several, who, to my certain knowledge, had heretofore set forth by railroad for the Celestial City. They looked dark, wild and smoky, with a singular resemblance, indeed, to the native inhabitants, like whom, also, they had a disagreeable propensity to ill-natured gibes and sneers, the habit of which had wrought a settled contortion on their visages. Having been on speaking terms with one of them—an indolent, good-for-nothing fellow, who went by the name of Take-it-easy—I called to him, and inquired what was his business there. "Did you not start," said I, "for the Celestial City?" "That's a fact," said Mr. Take-it-easy, carelessly puffing some smoke into my eyes. "But I heard such bad accounts that I never took pains to climb the hill on which the city stands. No business doing, no fun going on, nothing to drink and no smoking allowed, and a thrumming of church music from morning till night. I would not stay at such a place, if they offered me house-room and living free." "But, my good Mr. Take-it-easy," cried I, "why take up your residence here of all places in the world?" "Oh," said the loafer with a grin, "it is very warm hereabouts, and I meet with plenty of old acquaintances, and altogether the place suits me. I hope to see you back again, some day soon. A pleasant journey to you." While he was speaking, the bell of the engine rang, and we dashed away after dropping a few passengers, but receiving no new ones. Rattling onward through the valley, we were dazzled with the fiercely gleaming gas lamps, as before; but sometimes, in the dark of intense brightness, grim faces, that bore the aspect and expression of individual sins or evil passions, seemed to thrust themselves through the veil of light, glaring upon us, and stretching forth a great dusky hand, as if to impede our progress. I almost thought that they were my own sins that appalled me there. These were freaks of imagination—nothing more, certainly—mere delusions, which I ought to be heartily ashamed of; but all through the dark Valley, I was tormented, and pestered, and dolefully bewildered with the same kind of waking dreams. The mephitic gases of that region intoxicate the brain. As the light of natural day, however, began to struggle with the glow of the lanterns, these vain imaginations lost their vividness, and finally vanished with the first ray of sunshine that greeted our escape from the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Ere we had gone a mile beyond it, I could well nigh have taken my oath that this whole gloomy passage was a dream. Commencement of the Volume.
By Editor
THIS number of the REVIEW commences Volume VII. The past year has been to us one of affliction, disappointment, embarrassment and sadness, yet we have toiled on amid sickness, sorrow and death to do what we could for the REVIEW, to make it as useful as we could. In our feeble efforts to feed the flock of God, through this medium, we have doubtless erred many times; but the Chief Shepherd is our witness, that the glory of God, and the salvation of the flock, have been the objects of our labor. And here we wish to express our grateful thanks to the real friends and supporters of the cause for their christian forbearance, and their aid in time of affliction and need. May the blessing of God attend the liberal efforts of his servants in this life, and may they share a rich reward in the life to come. The last volume, of thirty-two numbers, contains much valuable matter. In it the important subjects of the Law of God, Man not Immortal, Atonement, the Three Angels of Rev. xiv, &c., have been clearly and ably set forth by the different writers. We hope the volume now commenced will also contain as great a variety of important matter. Besides the lengthy expositions of Scripture, we want many short articles on present truth, and present duty, and stirring epistles on experiences, or exhortations to obedience. The REVIEW should go forth bearing light, food and comfort to the scattered flock of God. Let the church, especially those called of God to feed the flock, speak freely and often through its columns, their communications breathing the spirit of truth, humility and love, that a portion of each number may be like a precious conference meeting to those scattered ones who cannot meet with those of like precious faith. We commence the present volume under encouraging circumstances. Our health is gradually improving. The friends of the cause are anxious to establish the Press on a proper basis, which will release us of much of our present care and responsibility, and enable us to devote more time to the interests of the REVIEW. THE cause of truth and Bible holiness is onward. What if it be a shaking time? This is necessary to sift the church, and shake off dead weights. The real friends of the cause, who have the root of the matter in them, stand firm, and are ready to act their part in the cause. We were much cheered in meeting with many of the true friends of the cause in Oswego Co., at the Oswego Tent meeting. The Lord was with us in that meeting. We had one of the most blessed and powerful prayer-meetings in Oswego, that we have witnessed for years. Our meetings in this place (near Buck's Bridge, St. Law. Co.) have been cheering. About 600 came out in the rain last First-day to hear. We stay here over next Sabbath. Brn. Wheeler of N. H., and Hart and Philips of Vt. are here, and are in the work. If it be pleasant weather, there will be a great crowd out to hear on First-day. There is quite a company of firm believers in this vicinity, most of them from the Wesleyan Church within a few years. They have received all three messages at once, and are doing well on them. God bless them, and let them have their "penny," though they may not have "borne the burden and heat of the day." There are calls for meetings in two places in this part of the State that we are obliged to pass by. The Lord has opened the way for the presentation of the truth to the people and calls on us to cry aloud and spare not, to lift up the voice like a trumpet, and shew his people their transgressions. May God help his people with faith and energy to do their duty in this last message. There are now five Tents in the field. God seems to bless this mode of convening the people to hear. The cause is onward, and God's people will finally triumph. A Good Work Accomplished.
By Editor
VOLUMES I and II of our Tracts and Pamphlets are now completed, and ready for circulation. Volume I embraces the works on the Law of God and the Sabbath, and Volume II those on the Signs of the Times, Prophecies of Daniel, the Sanctuary, Three Angels of Rev. xiv. and Man not Immortal. Both contain about 800 pages. These Tracts have been written with great care, and cover nearly the ground of our faith. They can be obtained of those who travel with the Tents, or at the Office, for $1 for both Volumes, or $75 per 100. A good work is accomplished in preparing these Tracts so that we can now present the main reasons of our faith in a body, and in an acceptable style. Brethren, let them be circulated. God's ways are not as our ways, nor his thoughts as our thoughts: for as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are His thoughts higher than our thoughts, and his ways than our ways. Man in his best estate, comes so infinitely short of being able to comprehend the purposes and plans of his Creator, that the ways of God often seem dark and mysterious; and we cannot understand his dealings with us. Yet every humble and devoted Christian feels full confidence in the love and wisdom of an allwise Providence, so that whatever may betide, he has a refuge to which to flee from every storm and tempest. Without a God to control the universe, all created nature would return to its original chaos. And when we reflect on our own weakness, and limited comprehensions, we can but feel how our own existence depends upon the constant care of that superior Being. He knows what is for our good, although we at the time, can see only evil. God sees when it is necessary to chasten and afflict us, to keep us low at the foot of the cross; and if He chasten us not, we have reason to fear we are not sons of God. Without disappointment and trial in this life, to remind us of our dependence, and helplessness, we might forget God, and trust in an arm of flesh. How often can the child of God look back to scenes of disappointment, when his wisest worldly plans were frustrated to his then great dismay, and see that it was the kind hand of God that thus safely guided him, and shielded him from certain evil, into which his own unaided wisdom would have plunged him. Present good is often found to be our greatest evil; and so the reverse. We thus see the necessity of looking to God for guidance and direction in all our plans and operations. So long as God is with us, we have an assurance that all things will work together for our good. If we trust implicitly in him, no permanent evil can overtake us. He that heareth the young ravens when they cry, and arrays the lilies of the field in all their glory, is not insensible to the wants of his creatures, whose confidence is in him. He is, and is the rewarder of those who diligently seek him; and none will seek him in vain. His invitations are, Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls; for my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Look unto me and be ye saved, all ye ends of the earth. Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness. Ask, and it shall be given you: seek and ye shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you. Enter ye in at the strait gate. Wash you, make you clean: put away the evil of your doings from before your eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do well—seek judgment; relieve the oppressed—judge the fatherless—plead for the widow. Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord. "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow—though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land. Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money, come ye, buy and eat—yea come, buy wine and milk without money, and without price. Incline your ear and come unto me: hear, and your soul shall live—and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David." With such a kind being for our Benefactor, who is so able and willing to save all who trust in him—and who will so surely be faithful to perform all he has promised—how inconsistent must those be, who neglect his counsel, and trust in their own wisdom to guide them. Cease ye from man whose breath is in his nostrils.