And each to other turning, strove to read By starlight's flickering gleam his neighbour's thoughts. A spell was on them, and they dared not speak While that sweet music filled the midnight air. Not Handel's mighty genius e'er composed Nor ever the melodious Felix dreamed Like harmonies to that enchanted strain; Not of the earth it was, but heavenly born, It seemed the echo of the distant song, By seraphs chanted round the eternal throne. The wondering shepherds stood in listening awe While the sweet measures chained their raptured souls And whispered of the joys of Paradise. As thus they stood in awesome wonderment And shape angelic; till before them stood. Flashed the clear light of heavenly sapience; ance. His raiment was a brilliant pearly vest, Of ever-changing beauty, like the flash. At sight so glorious; and where they stood Appeared the brightness of the noon-tide day. By those first mystic sounds from heaven's choir The shepherds' hearts were ravished, but when now A visitant of God-like majesty Appeared, vague trembling seized upon their souls. But trembling yielded place to swift delight, Before Jehovah's mighty throne uprise, 7 In David's city hath the answer come; Dividing, opened wide the gates of heaven, So rivalling in its light ten thousand suns Blinded with glory, prostrate on the ground. Now glad the shout of holy triumph rose, So loud, so joyous, musical withal, That earth with rapture trembled, and the hills Quivered with joy to throw the echo back! All nature joined the lofty song of praise"Glory to God on high, on earth be peace Toward men of holy will." The shepherds heard As on their spirits stole that Godlike peace As would each tree, each herb, each rock, and stone, Repeat the tidings in their whispered joy. Entranced awhile, the shepherds stood till he, Benaiah, eldest of the four, uprose, And with glad voice his comrades thus bespoke: "Let us to Bethlehem, my friends; delay Would ill become us, who have prayed so long Our Saviour-Lord, the New-born Prince of Uprising, onward sped the faithful four, With holy joy, nor doubted they, nor feared," Peace be on earth to men of holy will." THE INDIAN FAMINE. A Sermon preached in Chester Cathedral. By J. S. HOWSON, D.D., DEAN OF CHESTER. "Give ye them to eat."-LUKE ix. 13. J. E. BENNETT. WE E must discriminate between two | in St. John: but this Evangelist supplies miracles, which we are rather apt to blend into one. Our Lord draws the distinction very clearly, and calls our careful attention to it, in some words addressed to the disciples: "Do ye not remember the five loaves of the five thousand, and how many baskets ye took up? neither the seven loaves of the four thousand, and how many baskets ye took up?”* It is the former of these two miracles to which our thoughts are now to be given, and with special reference to one particular part of it. The miracle itself is recorded by all the four Evangelists: and it is the only one of all our Lord's miracles which has this distinction. This circumstance sets a peculiar mark upon it, and seems to say that it demands more than ordinary attention. These particular words, as addressed by Christ to the disciples-" Give ye them to cat"-are furnished by St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. Luke. They do not appear Matt. xvi. 9, 10. See Mark viii. 19, 20. other details, which give point to their meaning.* He tells us how Jesus, seeing a great company before Him, said to Philip: "Whence shall we buy bread, that these may eat?" And He adds, "This He said to prove them: for He himself knew what He would do." And then St. John tells us how Andrew, with a timid glance at the slender provision which was ready, said, "There is a lad here, which hath five barley loaves and two small fishes: but what are they among so many ?" Such conversation tends to communicate a strong emphasis to the words I am using for my text. It was under such circumstances, and at this part of the transaction, that Christ spoke those words to the disciples. If we think of them with due care, in their connection with the facts of the case, we begin to feel that they are very startling. We must, I think, find, when we take them into close consideration, that they have a deep and distinct meaning for us. And, if I am not much • John vi. 5-9. mistaken, they have special instruction for us here at this moment, in the presence of this great calamity in British India. One effect produced on the minds of those who heard them must have been a sore trial of their faith, with perplexity and fear, and a sense of their own utter helplessness. Before them was the great weary and hungry multitude. Here was the poor scanty supply. Around, at some distance, were certain poor villages; but the day was far spent: "two hundred pennyworth of bread would not be sufficient, that every one of them might take a little ;"* and where was the money to procure even this? Well might the hearts of all the disciples sink, as did the hearts of Philip and Andrew. And well do we remember, brethren, the same sinking of spirit-we, who have felt the various needs of others pressing on our hearts, who have desired to do good, but knew not how. Well do we remember the same trial of faith, and how it was accompanied with perplexity and fear. Still there came on the ears of the disciples our Lord's simple and direct command. It was like the command addressed to the man with the withered hand-" Stretch forth thine hand"-when the limb was all withered and dead. It was a command quite distinct and explicit. "They need not depart," said Christ, "Give ye them to eat." These disciples were to address themselves, under the sense of this perplexity and weakness, to the alleviation of this great calamity. A strange command indeed! and yet not perhaps so remote from passages of ordinary experience in the Church of subsequent days, as appears at first sight. It may be laid down as a general principle, that in our darkest hours there is almost always something to be done-that some command reaches us, when in our deepest depression -that in the doing of the command there is relief, and that blessing comes in the very making of the effort that is prescribed. So we are brought, in the third place, to the Divine enabling power, which came to the disciples in their effort to discharge the prescribed duty, and by virtue of which the duty was actually done. Jesus has looked up to heaven,§ has blessed the bread, and broken it, and placed it in the hands of the disciples. The wondrous increase seems to have been accomplished after this placing of the bread in their hands and during their act of distribution. The enabling power was given while they obeyed the command. As they addressed ⚫ John vi. 7. † Matt. xii. 13. Matt. xiv. 16. Matt. xiv. 19; Mark vi. 41; Luke ix. 16. themselves to their impossible task, the task became possible. Thus a great and urgent want was supplied for the moment, a great encouragement given for every season of perplexity in all coming time, a great revelation of Hope made to the Christian soul, when it is oppressed under a sense of weakness and poverty and sad despondency. For though, in ourselves following this example, we must omit what is properly miraculous, still the miracle sets forth certain great principles which are never obsolete. Let us see how its lessons can be made applicable to the special case now before us. There is no doubt that in this dreadful Indian famine is involved a serious trial of our faith. How to reconcile the existence of such great calamities with the Divine goodness is beyond the reach of our present faculties. We see indeed that there are in the physical world certain laws which must have their inevitable effects. We see too that certain races of mankind are indolent and improvident, and that the results to them must be disastrous. Yet, after all, this removes the difficulty only a few steps farther back. Like the disciples, we are in perplexity. But there comes to us, as to them, out of the midst of the darkness, a clear command: "Give ye them to eat." Even common philanthropy, even mere human sympathy, quickened by the remembrance that these are our fellow subjects, gives distinctness to the command. And to a great extent the enabling power is bestowed upon us. Our prosperity supplies the power. We have large resources here in England. The faculty of beneficence is diffused through a multitude of families. The power too of giving increases with its exercise. In the practice of self-denial we find new resources. This is a great principle, of which there has been happy experience in all ages of the Church. There is a passage from the Psalms quoted in the New Testament, which sets this very forcibly before us, and the occasion for the quotation was given, as seems most probable, by a famine. St. Paul, writing on behalf of those who were suffering from want in Judæa, and urging on the Corinthians the duty of large bounty and liberality, says, "God is able to make all resources abound towards you; that ye, having always all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work: as it is written" in the hundred and twelfth Psalm-The beneficent man "hath dispersed abroad; he hath given to the poor and his beneficence still remains and shall remain "-for such is the turn which St. Paul gives to the quotation; and then he adds, in words which every preacher on this subject may well use in English congregations: "Now may He that ministereth seed to the sower both minister bread for your food, and multiply your seed sown, and increase the fruits of your beneficence," so that ye may be "enriched in everything unto all bountifulness, which causes through us thanksgiving unto God."* These thoughts bring us to another aspect of the subject, which perhaps is more directly adapted to statesmen and men of science than to the Christian minister when appealing directly to the consciences of the members of a congregation. Yet we cannot properly separate ourselves from our general position of British citizens. There is, distributed through the whole nation, a responsi- | bility for taking a Christian view of British India; and when, on looking upon the matter in this way, we are conscious of what may well be called a national perplexity, a distress runs through the whole people, as the question presses upon us: "Whence shall we buy bread that these may eat?" And yet there comes out to us from the midst of this great calamity, a command, clear and peremptory, "Give ye them to eat." We are bound, as a nation, to address ourselves to the task of dealing, not only with this present famine, but with other famines that are likely to occur. And, once more, we may say with truth that the Divine enabling power is, to a great extent, present with us. Our engineering skill, our industrial experience, invest us with power as well as responsibility. As to what can be done by railways, or by irrigation, or the like, this is not the place to inquire. But, as we have called to mind the famines mentioned in the New Testament, so we may call to mind those which are mentioned in the Old. When a dearth was impending in Egypt, it was advised that the food of the good years should be stored up against the need of the bad years, so that the land might not "perish through the famine;" and Pharaoh "said unto his servants, Can we find such a one as this is, a man in whom the Spirit of God is?" and the man was found; and through Joseph the land was saved. The arrange ment of all such matters we of this congregation must leave to be settled between Pharaoh and Joseph. But we may with reverence remember that it was precisely this famine which ultimately led to one of the great religious movements of the world— a movement through which the Gospel came, in the end, even to us; and we must not allow ourselves to doubt that in proportion as a national effort is faithfully and carefully made, a great blessing will, in the working out of God's mysterious plans, be conferred upon the world through this present calamity. But one more aspect still of the subject— and, to the Christian mind, the most interesting and anxious of all-must be contemplated. This earthly famine is a picture of that famine of the heart and soul, which, whether felt or not, is throughout the heathen world, and the craving of which can only be satisfied by Christ, the Bread of Life. And, once again, when this thought likewise is in the mind, we find ourselves, like the disciples, in the presence of a great perplexity. Few questions have pressed more heavily, in all ages, on the Christian soul than this: How is it that the Gospel has made so little progress? How is it that so large a portion of the world is heathen still? And in this trial of our faith, we deeply feel our helplessness and poverty. Yet it is precisely when we feel this that the command rings most distinctly upon our ears, Pray ye the Lord of the harvest, that He would send forth labourers into His harvest:" "Go ye into all the world,* and preach the Gospel to every creature." What is this but to say to us, "Give ye them to eat"? God makes the progress of His kingdom dependent, so to speak, upon our prayers and our exertions. How the heart sinks when we are conscious of all that is thus laid upon us! The clergyman at home, in his pastoral work, feels all this deeply. He has to give to others that which he possesses not in himself. But in this very weakness is his strength. Simply obeying Christ, he receives from Christ the enabling and multiplying power. So with all of us, when we contemplate Missionary work among the heathen. We must bring our impossi 66 Matt. ix. 37, 38: Mark xvi. 15. See what Quesnel says, with special reference to ministerial work, on verses 16, 17 and 18. "From our own resources we can draw nothing to give to human souls; but he who confides in Jesus Christ has a treasure inexhaustible and ever present.-The confession of our own indigence is a great preparation for the gifts of God, and is in fact one of those gifts-Let us take our poverty to Jesus Christ: in His hands it will become abundant riches."-" Le Nouveau Testament avec des Réflexions morales sur chaque verset,' i. p. 196. bilities to God, with whom "all things are Connect, my dear brethren, the thought of Missionary progress with that thought of temporal relief, which is brought before your minds this day. It will quicken your benevolent efforts, and will purify them, and take them into a higher sphere. We have done much harm to the people of India through the inconsistent lives of our fellow-countrymen. Now we have an opportunity of doing them good. In relieving their present dis tress we may win their hearts towards the Truth with which we have been intrusted. It was by help of a famine that hearts were united, and the True Faith diffused, in the first spreading of the Gospel through the world. "The disciples were called Christians first in Antioch ;" and just then there came the announcement of a famine. "Then the disciples, every man according to his ability, determined to send relief to the brethren which dwelt in Judæa: which also they did "-thus teaching us to take a Christian view of great calamities, to act generously and promptly according to the occasion, and to expect God's blessing to rest on what we do. Acts xi. 26-30. THE NEST BUILDING. BY THE LATE REV. DR. G. B. WHEELER, RECTOR OF BALLYSAX. HE parlour in the Glebe House of Ballysax is a fine large room, nearly square. At the front end, there is a very broad window with two stone mullions which divide it into three compartments. From it we look down into a richly cultivated valley, then over a succession of low hills, and on to the Camp built on the long hill, 460 feet | above sea level, and all a mass of granite boulders, rounded limestones, gravel, sand, and alluvial, placed in the order I have named, beginning from below. We see the extended lines of the camp, in which to-day there are 9,700 men. The clock-tower stands in the centre, but we regulate our clocks by the mid-day and evening guns. At night, the long lines of lights-for the camp is lighted well-throw a halo round the huts and quarters. We hear distinctly the bugle calls, the roll of the drums beating the tattoo, and the rattle of rifles placed at "present" when the officer of the night goes on grand rounds. Now and again when there is a festival, as on St. Patrick's day, or St. David's day, or on the 1st of August, if any regiment which shared in the glorious fight of Minden is in camp, the rough but hearty music of stout soldiers' songs comes over the trees of our wood to us, and my two dogs try their best to join in the chorus. If there be a Scotch regiment at the Curragh, perhaps the stirring skirle of the bag-pipes does not fail to reach us, softened and mellowed in the air! They make heart-moving music, these Scotch pipes, and their notes are heard very far away; as the half-starved and sorely pressed garrison of Lucknow knew when Havelock marched through a sea of fire to relieve them. From that parlour window you can stretch your view away to the "Chair of Kildare," where the kings of Leinster, in old days, were crowned, and sweep your eye over a semicircle of seven miles radius. While I write this, a thunderstorm is raging, and the lightning, in violet-coloured sheets of flame, flashes over the vast scene. It is awe-inspiring and terrible. We are used to the roar of heavy guns here, and to the rattling fusillade of musketry, yet how poor their sound seems compared with the voices of Heaven's artillery! But my prospect for some time has been limited in extent. It was a great feat to move from my bedroom to the parlour with a stick in either hand, some little time since; and when they put me in my old arm-chair near a glowing fire -for the months of February and March were exceptionally cold-I thought I had gained a new lease, long or short, of life. Although chained to my chair I had ample society, for two huge rose-trees, of dear old kinds, the one white-they call it here the "Maiden's blush"-and the other red, had rather wildly, I must admit, trained themselves across the great window of the parlour. A green light came in through the early leaves, and numerous buds, notwithstanding the rigour of the spring, gave promise of foliage and flowers-a promise they gloriously fulfilled. A heavy shower had fallen early on the day when I took my old seat once more, but a burst of sunshine succeeded. |