Thomas died. The letters from England told in successive messages that Ryland and Fuller and Sutcliffe were all dead. But new friends came in the place of the old, and, like the flowers in his beloved garden, life was renewing itself from year to year. And, whether the sky was clear or clouded, Dr. Carey toiled alike. His noble aim was to translate the word of God into all the languages of the East, and, to a certain extent, he saw the near fulfilment of his plan. Seldom has there been a scholar who knew so many languages; seldom a simpler or humbler man. His versions and grammars in Bengali, Sanskrit, Gujariti, Telugu, Mahratti, and a score of other tongues, are the linguist's wonder; his sermons, if noticeable for little else, were remarkable for their simplicity. So long as he had strength he delivered occasional lectures on botany, and our knowledge of the flora of India is based on labours in which he bore a large and honourable part. During these latter days his own salary, and the income derived from a boarding-school kept by the Marshmans, amounted to some £2000 a year; but, after deducting their modest household expenditure, it was all given, one generous subscription, to the funds of the Baptist Mission. As the years wore on the work prospered wondrously. There were difficulties, but still the word of God grew and prevailed. Very near the end, Dr. Carey wrote to one of his sons: "I am this day seventy years old, a monument of Divine mercy and goodness, though on a review of life I find much, very much, for which I ought to be humbled in the dust. My direct and positive sins are innumerable; my negligence in the Lord's work has been great. I have not promoted His cause, nor sought His glory as I ought. I trust for acceptance with Him to the blood of Christ alone, and I hope I am received into the Divine favour through Him. . . . I trust I am ready to die, through the grace of my Lord Jesus, and I look forward to the enjoyment of the society of holy men and angels, and the full vision of God for evermore." With such hopes illuminating the closing days, with a radiance not of earth, but of an approaching heaven, it was easy to await the end. It came at length, and in June -the month when, far away, the English summer was in its early prime, a cool and gentle memory of flowers and soft gales tempering the sultry Indian fires, and making all the more mellow the dying thoughts of home. He fell asleep in complete peace. Before his death he had, with a noble and characteristic simplicity, arranged his epitaph, and his tombstone accordingly bears this inscription alone : "WILLIAM CAREY. "BORN AUGUST 17, 1761. DIED JUNE 9, 1839. "A wretched, poor and helpless worm, On Thy kind arms I fall.'” GEORGE WILSON, M.A., F.L.S. The Hindoo and the Missionary. BY REV. DR. H. BONAR. HINDOO came to the missionary Carey. He wanted the man of God to tell him how he was to pray. "What would you do," said Carey, "if you were going to the governor to petition for pardon on account of something you had done?" "I should put on a very sad face, and tell a great many lies to excuse myself," said the Hindoo. "Would the governor not find you out? be right to deceive him?” 'Why not tell lies? Our gods do this." "But our God is the God of truth." And would it The way in which this Hindoo prepared to treat the governor is the very way in which most men treat God when they pray. They are not honest with Him. They tell lies to excuse themselves, and to make Him think they are not such great sinners after all. Instead of telling Him the plain and honest truth about themselves, they endeavour to make out as good a case as they can, in order to recom mend themselves to Him, and to persuade Him to grant their petitions. But it won't do. A Hindoo governor may be deceived, and listen to lies; but the God of truth cannot. He must have honest dealing. We are told of one who had read many memoirs of eminent Christians, that being struck with the awful convictions of sin through which some of them passed, and with the strong confessions of sin set down in their diaries, that he set himself to imitate them: using their very language, and adopting it as his own. But it would not do. He got no response, and seemed to himself as one acting a part in order to gain an end. He thought with himself—What is this that I am doing? I am trying to make God believe that I feel convictions and contritions which I do not. What shall I do? How shall I confess sin at all in such a case? He answered his own question--I shall tell exactly how I feel and how I don't feel. Looking into himself, and looking back upon his past life, he saw clearly and felt deeply, this much at least the absence of all goodness, in thought, word and deed. He could honestly tell God this, though he could not speak of alarms or self-abhorrence. With this his felt want of all goodness he went to God; and ere long found that in this honest dealing with the Searcher of hearts he had found the true way of approach and the certainty of an answer in peace. Again and again, when depressed and desponding, as the absence of deep convictions made him doubt his acceptance, he fell back on this, and went to God, not with his convictions, or repentance, or tears or sighs, but simply with his want of goodness. What a relief he found! But was not this plea with which he went to God just as likely to become purchase-money in his eyes, so that he would be inclined to take his felt want of goodness as a recommendation of himself? Not so. He was by this honest confession simply putting himself in the only place or attitude in which God can bless— the place or attitude of a receiver, a helpless receiver-an empty vessel! Yes; even so. He thus went to God emptyhanded, as one that had “ no money." His plea was simply, I have no money; deal with me as such, according to the payment made by Him who, though He was rich, for our sakes became poor, that we by His poverty might become rich, and who has said, "I counsel thee to buy of Me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich." 1 Had he tried to tell God how penitent he was, how deeply he was ashamed of himself for having no money, he could not have hoped to succeed; but when he went with the simple acknowledgment, "I have no money," he was dealing honestly with the God of truth; and not trying to make himself better than he was, or to practise fraud upon Him who searcheth the hearts and trieth the reins. God deals honestly with us; let us deal honestly with Him. We are not to be like those who try to raise money under false pretences; but like those who, conscious of having nothing, go to a generous friend to make known their poverty. As God loves a cheerful giver, so is He Himself the most cheerful of all givers. Do justice to His liberality and love by asking boldly for all you need, and asking it not because of the goodness which is in you, but the goodness that is in Him. He openeth His hand and satisfieth the desires of every living thing. He giveth to all men bountifully and upbraideth not. If His rule of giving were the worthiness of the object, He would not give to us at all. He would give to angels, but not to the sons of Adam; or He might to those who had the fewest sins, but the chief of sinners He would send empty away. He that spared not His own Son, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? That unspeakable gift is not only the pledge and measure of the amount and value of His gifts; but it is the unmistakable proclamation of His generous love-His willingness to give to the unthankful, the unworthy and the unlovable. 1 Revelation iii. 18. "Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in My name," said Christ, "He will give you." Is this promise not wide enough for us? Or do we say, Ah, but then it is for those who know that they are His disciples, and who, because of this conscious discipleship, are entitled to ask boldly. Nay, it is simply for those who ask in His name. This is all. Whosoever will go to God making use of His name shall be welcome, and shall receive according to the value of that name. It is the name that secures the blessing. Let us confidently take it in our hand when we draw near, assured that its power with God is irresistible. He who uses it, whosoever he be, shall obtain for himself all that the name can procure, the whole fulness of the heavenly blessing. A Song of Praise to God the Father. From the German of ANGELUS SILESIUS.' HOU Father, who of all that is, THO Beginning and Creator art! And whom, with gladsome songs of praise, O Father, in eternity, Thrice blessed and praised for ever be! Thou who from all eternity, Begettest Thine eternal Son; And in the fulness of the time, Didst send Him from Thy heavenly throne. O Father, in eternity, Thrice blessed and praised for ever be! Thou who hast chosen men in Him, Ere Thou hadst earth's foundations laid; 'Who hast begotten us again, An endless covenant hast made. O Father, in eternity, Thrice blessed and praised for ever be! |