congregation. The building must have presented | a very antiquated appearance. Over the pulpit was an old-fashioned sounding-board, such as was common to churches of days gone by. Previous to the introduction of gas, oil-lamps were ranged round the building. Suspended from the centre of the high ceiling, was a huge brass chandelier, filled with candles, which, at certain periods of the service, required snuffing. Attached to some of the old pews may be seen pieces of chain, to which were affixed Bibles for the use of those who could not afford to purchase what was, at that time, an expensive treasure. The old windows of the place still remain, set in leaden and iron frames; but many a stormy wind has deprived them somewhat of their original firmness and solidity. There are to be seen in the chapel, many of the old-fashioned family-pews, with a small elevated seat at one end for the youngest member of the family. The boys of past generations were mischevious then, as their successors are now, and they often defaced the pews with their pocketknives. Sundry traces of their work still remain. An interesting relic is the ancient rush-bottomed chair, in the vestry, which has served as a seat of many a learned divine, amongst whom must not be forgotten Dr. Isaac Watts, Dr. Philip Doddridge, and Dr. David Jennings. The vaults beneath the chapel, which were made at the time of its erection, were for the burial of the dead, of which upwards of four hundred are deposited here. Amongst these are some of the ministers who laboured in connection with the place. A chapelkeeper, who died some sixty years ago, made a point of keeping these vaults clean and in order. Some curious incidents regarding them are related by her successor. Her arrangement of the coffins was most remarkable. The ministers she put immediately under the pulpit, it being her opinion that it was as well to let them be as near as possible to the place from which they had often preached the gospel. To the children, also, she allotted a special corner in the vault, and particular friends she placed in close proximity to one another. She had been, during their lifetime, personally acquainted with those who lay there, and she took a peculiar interest in often holding imaginary conversations with them. She spent a good portion of her time in this abode of the departed, and it was her especial wish to be buried there; this, however, was not to be, as the Act of Parliament came into force immediately before her death, forbidding burials in such close contiguity to dwelling-houses. Anyone acquainted with the neighbourhood of Wapping fifty or sixty years ago, cannot fail to be struck with the contrast of its present condition to that of the past. Some fine old houses, once the abodes of wealth and affluence, still stand, but the dwellers therein are, as a rule, of the lowest grade. In some of the houses each room now shelters a family. The people residing in the neighbourhood are generally of the poorer class, although, of course, there is a certain number in better circumstances. The employment for the greater part of the male population is found at the wharves and factories. The construction of the London Dock rendered the land on which the chapel stands an island. Since the time of Mr. Hooper the chapel has undergone numerous and marked changes. efforts of those who have laboured here within the last The twenty years have met with a fair amount of success, and signs of new life and vigour have frequently manifested themselves. For some time missionaries and also students of New College, conducted the services, a good friend of the cause and member of the congregation personally remunerating them. About ten years ago, when the cause was at its lowest ebb, the present pastor, the Rev. Julius Benn, came to labour in connection with it, the congregation at that time consisting of a handful of poor people, but notwithstanding the great obstacles and difficulties that have presented themselves, the good work still goes on, and the church has during this period increased in numbers. The Sunday-school is well attended and bids fair to assume still larger proportions, although the want of a separate building makes school work rather difficult. At present the children are gathered in the gallery of the chapel, which has been adapted for the purpose. In a neighbourhood like Wapping, as elsewhere, there are many poor souls needing consolation and comfort, those to whom the gospel message in all its simplicity and truth would come as a ray of sunshine to illumine their dark and often toilsome path. For many generations God's messages of love and mercy have been delivered within these walls by some of the best of his servants, and only the judgment day will reveal the number of those who have found the way to the better land. Parables of Prayer. BY W. LANGFORD. III. PRAYER is the secret whisper of a soul By scornful taunts or threatening bowed; And clothes with honour and with fame, IV. Prayer is the cry of want, the beggar's plea, How would a famished suppliant bless MORAVIAN MISSIONS. Pages for the young. MORAVIAN MISSIONS. 66 I. OST of the young readers of the Sunday at Home" have heard of the Moravian Missions. In England there are many Missionary Societies for sending the gospel to heathen lands, such as the Church Missionary Society, and the London Missionary Society, and others supported by different bodies of Christians. But there is no Missionary Society which has a more romantic history, or which has the heartier good wishes of all denominations of Christians, than that of the Moravian Brethren, of the origin and work of which we are now going to give a very brief account. The country of Moravia, now a portion of the great AustroHungarian empire, but then a separate kingdom, received the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ about a thousand years ago, through the laborious efforts of two Greek Bishops, named Cyril and Methodius. It soon became a kind of centre of missionary work, and the neighbouring kingdoms of Bohemia and Poland gradually became evangelised from Moravia. During the dark ages which followed, when the power of Rome was felt by almost all the Churches of Europe, many attempts were made to force the papal yoke upon the Moravian Church, and much persecution was endured by them, as well as by all faithful witnesses for the truth. Those persecutions culminated in the martyrdom of John Huss, and of his friend Jerome of Prague, both of whom were burnt alive in 1414. A long war followed; worldly weapons were too readily taken up by some in their defence. But a number of others, who chose rather to suffer as witnesses, formed themselves into a community (in A.D. 1457, four hundred and twenty-one years ago), which was called the "Unitas Fratrum," or "United Brethren," and which may be regarded as a kind of second starting-point of the Moravian Church. In the course of a few years they became thoroughly organized, under their own Bishops; and in spite of repeated persecutions and fierce opposition, they held their ground. They were the first to apply the newly-discovered art of printing to the publication of the Scriptures in a tongue understood by the people; and they had issued no less than three editions of the Bible before the glorious light of the Reformation dawned upon the continent of Europe. But renewed persecution broke out against them; hundreds of families were driven into exile; many were put to death; and, at the close of the seventeenth century, they had well-nigh, as a Church, ceased to exist. In the year 1660, one of their Bishops, by name John Amos Comenius, a man distinguished not more for his piety than for his learning, published a History of the Brethren, with a Dedication, which he called his "last will and testament," which he sent to the then King of England, Charles II., bequeathing through him to the English Church the memorials of his people. "If," he wrote in this Dedication, "by the grace of God there hath been found in us (as wise and godly men have sometimes thought) anything true, anything honest, anything just, anything pure, anything lovely and of good report, if any virtue, and any praise, care must be taken that it may not die with us when we die; and, at least, that the very foundation of our Church be not buried under its present ruins, so that generations to come may not 463 look for them. And indeed unis care is taken, and provision is made on this behalf, by this our trust committed to your hands." This appeal to the Church of England by the Church of Moravia was not made in vain. A most pathetic account of their history and of their persecutions was published by order of the then Archbishop of Canterbury (Sancroft) and the then Bishop of London (Compton), and letters patent, authorizing collections for their relief, were issued by the King. This was the first time the Church of England had volunteered to help the Moravian Brethren; but it was not the last. In 1715 they again, when in great extremity, appealed for help to England; and by the recommendation of Dr. Wake, Archbishop of Canterbury, the King, George I., gave orders in council for their relief as a Reformed Episcopal Church, and collections were again made on their behalf. Seven years later, active persecution again broke out in Moravia; and threatened to extinguish the Church altogether. But, as has so often been the case, God overruled it to the revivifying and strengthening of his people. Many who were forced to flee from their country found refuge on the estates of one who became afterwards thoroughly identified with their cause -Count Zinzendorf of Lusatia. That remarkable man afterwards became a Bishop of the Moravian Church; and during the whole of his life-time its history was closely identified with his. Under his auspices, the Brethren built a village on his estate, which they named Herrnhut, and which has ever since been the head-quarters of their Church. This was a kind of third starting-point of the Church of the Moravians; it was about a century and a half ago. Other dispersed members of their community, together with some pious Christians from other quarters, joined them; their congregations gradually increased in Germany; and a few were established in Denmark, in Russia, in Holland, in England, and even in North America. From a very early period the missionary spirit remarkably showed itself among the members of this Moravian community. When the number of refugees on Count Zinzendorf's estate at Herrnhut scarcely numbered six hundred persons, they became so impressed with the duty of the Church with regard to the wide "field" of the heathen "world,” that in less than ten years they had sent missionaries to the West Indies, to Greenland, to the Indians in both North and South America, to Lapland, to the Cape of Good Hope, to West Africa, to Algiers, and to Ceylon. All this was done when their pecuniary means were of the scantiest possible kind; the first missionaries starting with little more than a few shillings in their pockets. The zeal for spreading far and wide the knowledge of salvation by a crucified Saviour in "the field of the world," which they then exemplified, has never since diminished. And the power to attempt great things in that “field" with small pecuniary means, which distinguished their first missionaries, is still characteristic of them. The gospel has by them, in many cases, been carried to outlying heathen nations where no other gospel messenger has penetrated; and from whom, but for their steadfast devotedness in every variety of climate, it is probable that the message of salvation would be entirely hidden. A former Bishop of London (Bishop Porteous), in a pamphlet addressed to the authorities and proprietors in the British West India Islands seventy years ago (A.D. 1808), used these words with regard to them and their work: "These indeed have shown a degree of zeal, of vigour, of perseverance, of an unconquerable spirit and firmness of mind, which no dangers, no difficulties, could subdue (combined at the same time with the greatest gentleness, prudence, and moderation), and of which no example can be found since the first primitive ages of Christianity. They have penetrated into the remotest regions of the globe, have sown the seeds of Christianity among the most savage and barbarous nations, from Labrador, Lapland, and Greenland, in the north, to the Cape of Good Hope in the south, and have been particularly successful in the conversion of the Negro slaves in many West India Islands, especially in Antigun.” Since Bishop Porteous wrote these words, the mission work of the Moravian Brethren has grown and extended. According to their last report, they have no fewer than ninety-four mission stations, with two hundred and ninety-eight mission agents of both sexes, having under their charge sixty-seven thousand four hundred and thirteen persons, of whom twenty-two thousand and fifty-one or nearly one-third, are communicants. Their expenditure for the year amounted to less than 20,000l.; a sum which, however large in itself, is really marvellously small when the work done is taken into consideration. The general poverty of the Moravian communion makes it impossible for them to raise amongst themselves the whole of the money required for carrying on their missionary labours in the field of the heathen world; and they have for many years been assisted by Christians in England for that purpose. "The London Association in Aid of the Moravian Missions" (whose office is at 32, Sackville Street, Piccadilly) was founded so long ago as 1817. During the sixty-one years of its existence it has been instrumental in greatly upholding the hands of the Moravian Missionary Brethren, and in enabling them to extend the sphere of their missionary labours. The first mission of the Moravians was in 1732-nearly a century and a half ago-to the negroes of St. Thomas, an island in the West Indies belonging to Denmark. Such was the devotedness of the men who were sent out there, that having heard that they could not otherwise have intercourse with the negro slaves in that island, they actually went forth with the full intention of becoming slaves themselves, that they might have the opportunity of teaching them the gospel of Christ. They found, on landing, that this was not really required of them; yet nevertheless they had to submit to many and great sacrifices: they had to maintain themselves by the labour of their hands under the burning sun of the tropics, while every leisure hour which they had was employed in making known the Word of God to the heathen. Their zeal and perseverance met with a corresponding blessing, converts became gathered into the fold of Christ. From the island of St. Thomas their work was gradually extended to other West India islands, as well as to parts of the neighbouring coast of Central and Southern America; and at present there are upwards of fifty-four thousand persons of African descent connected with their West Indian Missions, which were begun in such humble dependence upon the Lord by the poor but devoted men sent out by the Moravian Church. A year after the missionaries were first sent to the island of St. Thomas, another and far different part of the heathen world received the messengers of the gospel from the same source. The country of Greenland is one of the most uninviting portions of the surface of the globe; its frozen soil produces little of what is fit for the sustenance of civilised man; the seas around its coast are stormy and dangerous; its native inhabitants few, and rude and savage. Yet for those rude inhabitants of a desolate land, as well as for those dwelling in more favoured climes, the Moravian Brethren felt that the gospel message had been sent; and accordingly two of them started on foot to Copenhagen, with the view of gaining the help of the Danish Government, to which Greenland belongs, in their difficult enterprise. "There was no need," says one of them, "of much time or expense for our equipment. The congregation consisted chiefly of poor exiles, who had not much to give, and we ourselves had nothing but the clothes on our backs." Having reached Copenhagen, they committed their cause to God, and were not disappointed in their trust. The King of Denmark's chamberlain interested himself in them; and the King, at his recommendation, wrote with his own hand a letter on their behalf to the Danish resident minister in Greenland. Having found a ship, these two devoted men started on their voyage to carry the tidings of God's love and mercy to the perishing Greenlanders. How they fared when they reached their destination, and with what success their labours were crowned, our next chapter will show. SCRIPTURE ENIGMA. NO. XXI. 1. Puro substance, in thy breaking thou didst shed On Him who lived, anointing for the dead. 2. Against her brother's rights she spake, and lo! The leprosy came on her white as snow. 3. O eastern king! who may thy word gainsay? Thou dost thy queen depose, thy courtiers slay. 4. A man whose name lives only by his son Who for his race their promised country won. 5. Upon his shoulder once the high priest wore This gem which Israel's names engraven bore. 6. With this He thoroughly shall purge his floor, Then gather in the wheat for evermore. 7. Sad garb of woe, thy sombre drapery 9. What went ye forth to see, and what to find, Whene'er he treads the corn, may have his share. 12. The rushing storm swept through the desert air; Most awful-yet God's presence was not there. 13. Weak weapon, but it did its work full well; And the great, vaunting giant reeled and fell. THE SUNDAY ALBUM. NO. IV. SACRIFICE AND OFFERING. The first sacrifice that we find mentioned in the Bible is that of Abel, and the reason is given in Hebrews xi. 4 why it was accepted rather than that of Cain. Noah offered sacrifices, see Gen. viii. 20. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob often offered up sacrifices; wherever it is mentioned that they built an altar to God, we may understand that they sacrificed unto the Lord (Gen. xxii. 13; Gen. xxxi. 54; Gen. xlvi. 1, etc.). Thus we see that sacrifices were appointed to be offered long before the time of Moses, though those early sacrifices are more frequently called in Genesis “offerings,” or "burnt-offerings," than "sacrifices." Moses said to Pharaoh, "Thou must give us also sacrifices and burnt-offerings that we may sacrifice unto the Lord" (Exod. x. 25); this shows that the people of Israel considered burnt-offerings to be a necessary part of sacrifice long before the law was given on Sinai. When Israel was to leave Egypt, God commanded each family to sacrifice a lamb, and gave very particular directions as to this institution, that they might understand the true meaning of sacrifice. "Ye shall say it is the sacrifice of the Lord's passover, who passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt, when he smote the Egyptians and delivered our houses." It is important for us to understand this, and to remember that by this type God shows forth the great salvation given to us through the blood of Christ; "For even Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us" (1 Cor. v. 7). It is impossible to note all the many places in which the offering of sacrifices of various kinds are commanded by the law of Moses. There were morning and evening sacrifices, yearly sacrifices, sin-offerings and peace-offerings; there were also sacrifices of thanksgiving and of praise. We have no sin-offerings or sacrifices for sin now, because "Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many" (Heb. ix. 28). "This man after he had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand of God" (Heb. x. 12). But there are still sacrifices of thanksgiving for us, for it is written (Heb. xiii. 15): "By Him let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually." welcome the Reverend William Maxwell among them. Never, except perhaps in their most confidential whispers among themselves, did the wise men of Gershom confess that they were disappointed in their minister. They had not expected perfection, or they said they had not, but each and every one of them had expected some one very different from the silent, sallow, heavy-eyed young man whom Jacob Holt, at whose home he was for the present to live, introduced to them. Something had been said of the getting up of a monster tea-meeting, to welcome him, but uncertainty in the time of his coming, because of illne-s, had prevented this, and as soon as he was seen there was a silent but general decision among those in authority that this would not have been a successful measure. So he was conducted from house to house by Jacob Holt, or some other of the responsible people, and he was praised to his flock, and his flock were praised to him, but there was not much progress made towards acquaintance for a while, and even the least observing of them could see that there were times when contact with strangers, to say nothing of the necessity of making himself agreeable to them, was almost more than the poor young man could bear. Still, nobody confessed to disappointment. On the contrary, Jacob Holt and the rest of the leaders of public opinion declared constantly that he was "the right man in the right place." Of Scottish parentage, brought up from his boyhood in Canada, and having received his theological education in the United States, if he were not the man to unite the various contending national elements in Gershom society, where was such a man to be found. No man could have every gift, it was said, and whatever Mr. Maxwell might seem to lack as to social qualities, he was a preacher. All agreed that his sermons were wonderful. It was the elaborately prepared discourses of his seminary days, that the young man, moved by a vague but awful dread of breaking down, gave to his people first. well that the learned professor's opinion of them and of their author had come to Gershom before him. There could be no doubt as to the sermons after that testimony, so it was no uncertain sound that went forth about his first pulpit efforts. It was They were clear, they were logical, they were profound. Above all, they were pronounced by the orthodox North Gore people to be sound.' It is true he read them, but even that did not spoil them, and it was a decided proof that these people were sincere in their admiration and in earnest in their desire for union and "the healing of breaches" that this was the case. In old times, that is, in the time of old Mr. Grant, and old Mr. Sangster, to be a "proper minister" was in their opinion to be a "dumb dog that could not bark," and such a one had ever been an object of compassion, not to say of contempt among them. But Mr. Maxwell's sermons were worth reading, they said, and they waited. And so the first mouths were got safely over. Safely, but alas! not happily, for the young minister; scarcely recovered from severe illness, weak in body, and desponding in mind, he had no power to accommodate himself to the circumstances towards which all the preparation and discipline of his life had been tending. Over a time of sickness and suffering he looked back to days of congenial occupation and companionship, with a regret so painful that the future seemed to grow aimless and hopeless in its presence. As men struggle in dreams with unseen enemies, so he struggled with the sense of unfitness for the work he had so joyfully chosen, and for which he had so earnestly prepared, with the fear that he had mistaken his calling, and that he might dishonour, by the imperfect fulfilment of his duty, the Master that he loved. He despised himself for the weakness which made it a positive pain for him to come in contact with strangers with whom he had no power to make friends. He began to regard the hopes that had sustained him during the time of preparation, the pleasure he had taken in such remnants of other people's work in the way of preaching as had fallen to him as a student; and the encouragement which had been given to him as to his gifts and talents, as so many temptations of Satan. It was this sense of unfitness for his work, that made him fall back at first on the sermons of his student days, and which made the pulpit services, praised by his hearers, seem to him like a mockery. It was a miserable time to him. He distrusted himself utterly, and at all points; which would not have been so bad a thing if he had not also distrusted his Master. But such a state of things could not continue long. It must become either worse or better, and better it was to be. As Mr. Maxwell's health improved, he became less despondent, and more capable of enjoying society. Clifton Holt was at home again, but no one, not even Miss Elizabeth, could have anticipated that he would be almost the first one in Gershom to put the minister for the moment at his ease. Clifton had gone back to his college examinations at the appointed time; and had so far retrieved his character for steadiness and scholarship, that he was permitted to start fair another year, the last in his college course. He was now at home for the regular vacation, and was proving the sincerity and strength of his good resolutions to his sister's satisfaction, by remaining in Gershom, and contenting himself with the moderate enjoyments of such pleasures as village society, and the neighbouring woods and streams afforded. Miss Elizabeth had seconded Jacob's rather awkward attempts to bring her brother and the young minister together, taking a vague comfort in the idea that the intercourse must do Clifton good. But as a general thing Clifton kept aloof a little more decidedly than she thought either kind or polite, so that it was a surprise to her, as well as a pleasure, when one night they came in together, and they had not been long in the house, before she saw that whether the minister was to do her brother good or not, her brother had already done good to the minister. They were dripping wet from a summer shower, that had overtaken them, but Mr. Maxwell looked a good deal more like other people, Miss Elizabeth thought, than ever she had seen him look before. "Mr. Maxwell was in despair at the thought of venturing with muddy bouts into Mrs. Jacob's spick and span' house, so I brought him here," said Clifton. We have been down at the black pool, and I have been taking a lesson in fly-fishing. We have earned our tea, and we are ready for it," |