322 the good life shall flow. Here is just where Christian instruction begins with man, by beginning with his heart, his affections; putting these in tune, that the [true life shall be given out from them. Being born again, born from above-renewed by heavenly love, all this implies rightness at heart. If you are to have a Christian life, there must be a power within to give out that life, or it will not be realized; just as to have a well, you must strike a spring somewhere in the earth that will give out the supply. There is a secret life and a life with the world which Christ would have us live. When he says to his disciples, "Enter into thy closet and shut the door; pray to thy Father which is in secret, and thy Father which seeth in secret shall himself reward thee openly," he means this. The reward of all this true inward communion is in the fruits of prayer, -in righteous character, worthy action, augmented power to do God's will. The Christian is, in reality, what his inner life makes him. He may appear to man in one aspect, and to God entirely in another; as man judgeth according to the outward appearance, but God by the heart; as out of that" are the issues of life." If there is to be a good and strong life-work done, then there must be a strong life-power within to render this work actual, continual and effective. If the golden rule is to be observed, it will not be by any ordinary cleverness of the individual any contentedness with a kind of average piety and benevolence which may be natural to the soul without much extra exercise or striving. You must have a living, wakeful, watchful, prayerful soul to do that, or it will not be done; just as the soil needs careful preparation often, and always the right condition in itself, that fruits may come from it and a good harvest yielded. It was with this inner life that Jesus had most to do. It is more than anything else insisted upon in the New Testament. "God hath sealed us and given us the earnest of the Spirit in our hearts. God grant you to be strengthened with might by his Spirit in We know that he abideth the inner man. in us by the Spirit which he hath given us. For as many as are led by the spirit of God, they are the sons of God." It is for this di vine supply that the Christian should be constantly seeking. And for it, he must go as did his Master, to the unfailing source. Again; let us understand that the true force and value of a Christian life will be in proportion to the inward religious supplies of that life. No stream rises higher than its There is just as much Christian fountain. life and power in the churches and in the world as there are hearts in subjection to Christ's rule, and in communion with that Holy Spirit from which he drew his supplies; and no more, that may really be relied upon and counted as the pure gold of the kingdom. You may have any amount of outward manifestation of the "lo here!" or "lo there!" costly churches, fashionable congregations, scholarly ministers, popular educational institutions, charitable activities not a few. But something more you must have to make any church or sect a divine, increasing and regenerative power in this erring, ein-stricken and spiritually famishing world. Signs may deceive and this may be but a show of the life that the churches and the world are most needing. The true life, the saving, exalting, redeeming and glorifying power is really in the pure, loving, consecrated Christlike hearts which that church or Without this knowledge, sect may hold! tongues, gifts, however rare or abounding, may be a show without substance, the body without the soul. Godliness is the divine supply of all souls. It is the force of all forces in the work of spiritual regeneration and redemption. It is because we believe in its infinite fulness and efficacy that we have hope and faith in the reconciliation of all souls to God. Jesus would have fainted but for this conviction this joy that was set before him, the highest joy of his spirit-the completion of the work given him of the Father to do. The apostles would have given up their work in despondency, but for this ever present inspira- the fulness of God's love adequate to tion all spiritual wants. They were "persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature could separate them from the love of God, which was in Christ Jesus the Lord." Let us note a few instances wherein this divine supply is needed in the individual soul. 1. In temptation. All of us are subjects of temptation. Christ was assailed by it. That which saved him from its influences, will save us also. He could not have stood against it but for that divine force which was in him and which he kept supplied through communion with his Father and our Father, his God and our God. That led him to say at once and persistently to the adversary, "Get thee behind me, for thou art an offence unto me." It is morally certain that we shall be tempted; but in this there is no sin. The sin is in the yielding. "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation; for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life." If we cut ourselves away from Christ, if we have in the time of temptation no heavenly principle as he had to rest back upon, then are we in moral peril, and may be weak and overcome when we deem ourselves strongest. But if we can go confidently in the quiet and earnestness of the soul to the Father, and pray to him and consult anew his directions and lay hold upon his hand, then may we realize the full meaning of that utterance of the Psalmist. "The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous runneth into it and are safe." It is then and thus that the trusting soul may find the secret of the Lord, and abide under the shadow of the Almighty. How grandly expressive of this power are the words of one of Newton's Olney hymns: "O, I have seen the day, When, with a single word, My trust is in the Lord.' My soul has faced a thousand foes, Fearless of all that could oppose!" 2. In our dealings with the world we need this inward seeking for the heavenly supply. That we may fulfil the second commandment, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," an inward supply, adequate to the doing of this duty is requisite. For this, we must go to the Father. The apostolic word is, "Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another." But neither the apostle's word alone, nor our assent to it, will insure this love of man to man. This love of God must be the deep and constantly fed conviction of his soul. It was thus with Jesus. That great love ever outflowing from him had its constant supply from the beneficent Father of all. Loving our fellow-men as he loved them, we shall seek in all our intercourse to deal justly, mercifully, righteously; rendering to all their dues in that charity which "suffereth long and is kind, seeketh not her own, beareth, hopeth, endureth all things, and that never faileth." All this must come through self-seeking, self-discipline, — application to the divine source, reliance upon the wisdom from above, which is pure — full of many and good fruits, "without partiality and without hypocrisy." He who would deal justly in all his business transactions with his fellow-men from day to day, needs to keep true and constant and faithful his business first with God; needs to seek the counsel and aid of the Father in secret, that he may walk openly with his fellow-men "in all godliness and honesty." 3. In the afflictive allotments of life we need this inner aid, this divine supply, coming through prayer and trust and communion with the Father. In seasons of affliction the sympathy of earthly friends is of unspeakable value to us. Their words and offices of love cheer and bless us. But how often do these prove inefficient to meet our wants, earnestly and constantly as they may seek and minister to us. There is "a deeper depth" of the soul than that which they can reach, hidden from all human access, where only grace can come of the Infinite fulness and love! And for this want the Giver of all good has provided. The sorrow that would go apart to weep and meditate may find in him that strength which will enable it in faith to say, "not my will, but thine be done;" enable it also to realize in its high communing and its heavenly confidence, "Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous but grievous, nevertheless afterwards it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." Let us understand, then, that in order to fulfil the great objects of our life as Jesus has given us the example, we need the same divine resources that supplied him. We need them now, and we never needed them more than now The excitement of he world is everywhere about us; its outward distractions are forcing themselves upon us through every day and almost every hour of our life. Fast thinking, fast living and doing seem to be the order of the day. Our own land is pervaded with an intense restlessness and activity which would seem to be anything but favorable to habits of quiet thought, calm meditation, or devout repose. Many seem to think that they are not living at all, if it be not at the swiftest rates of speed and in the midst of new excitements. But if we will rightly understand the needs of our spiritual nature, and in what our truest life consists, we shall see that this perpetual roar and agitation is anything but favorable to the supply of them. Neither our physical or mental powers can endure this constant strain. If even stone and iron will disintegrate under constant jarring, so will the soul lose its spiritual compactness and strength by these unceasing outward infractions upon it. What, then, is its security? Nothing short of that which Jesus found, as he left the multitude and went apart to seek quiet and renew his inward strength through meditation and prayer. Even so must we do, and do it conscientiously, resolutely, habitually. Just as we go to our meals, to our daily work or nightly rest, so should we go to the closet or mountain apart; anywhere that we may have seclusion, quiet, peace from the world's noise and confusion; anywhere that we may find time for a little free breathing, bracing prayer and heavenly meditation. you must go far back among the mountains of the Granite State, far up toward their summits, and find the living springs quietly at work in their hiding places, and constantly feeding the little streams that run down the hill slopes and along the shaded valleys, till they form this swelling flood of living waters as it rolls on and on to the sea. So if you would have this Christian life in the individual or in the churches a vital, working, constantly effective and unfailing force, it must have its supplies far back in the summits of faith and communion with God, in secret prayer and heavenly trust, in holy contemplation, in Christian resolution and consecration. Of this comes fulness and life, unfailing strength and prevailing power. ON THE RHINE. BY MRS. EMILY MEYER. II. ERE we are in the very heart of the gen yields the golden Scharlachberger, opposite on the bare, blank promontory, Rüdesheimer and Assainushäuser clasp hands, the one covering the hills up, and the other down the river, both laying claim to the sunny slopes of the vertical chasms. These are the best red wines of Germany. Below Bingen, the stream is narrow and swift, winding among steep hills all the way to Bonn, but above, it widens into a placid sea. There runs by my dwelling place the grand The left shore falls back in gentle undulaand beautiful Merrimac, whose waters move tions to the horizon, while the right rises the vast machinery of our city and of the more abruptly to a range of hills, the spur other cities and towns through which it of the Saunus mountains. A little way up passes. I hear its murmurs night and day, the river, a sudden hill stands out of the genas it ripples in its summer slowness through eral slope, bearing upon its brow, a large its rocky channel, or sweeps down in its modern palace. This is Johannisburg. It spring fulness, bearing the freshets of the was formerly a monastery, but during the north to the wide and receptive ocean. Its Napoleonic wars it changed hands, and now steady and resistless force is the reality belongs to Metternich, Austrian minister to which oftenest holds me. And whence this the French court, and husband of that woever moving, ever onward, ever working man who vies with Eugenie in folly and her power? Ah! you must look for it, not here efforts to vitiate the European taste. where our eyes are daily and nightly gazing upon it, and our ears are greeted with the ceaseless hymn of its good cheer and adoration. To find the sources of all this power, Said spot is famous for a number of things, among others, for being Dolly's birth-place. That was the great joy that came to me there; but nevertheless, the four years I spent there, were not pleasant ones. During three of them I watched with fear and trembling the progress of the American War. That was a passiveness which did not suit my active nature. I lived in a modest cottage, a babbling brook flowed past the door, opposite rose hill and castle, and broad, green meadows spread past me down to the near river. 'Twas very beautiful, and I stood in my open window, one day, enjoying it, when Countess Metternich drove by, direct from Paris, to take up her summer abode here. She had a plain, little, gipsy face, sparkling, in spite of a certain made-upness. I saw it plainly, as she leaned out of her carriage to greet me. Full of innocent surprise, I forgot to return her greeting. It never occurred to me, till after she was out of sight, that she held me for one of the retainers of her estate. I am wofully unfortunate in such things. Two years ago, the King of Prussia and the crown Prince drove past me on the highway near L. The king greeted me most graciously, with a wave of his white gloved hand. Again I was a petrified dreamer, and owe him up to this moment, a grateful re- but I forgive him the debt! In both cases, carriage wheels covered the, merry laugh which burst from my lips when I recalled the halo of condescension and its absurd misapplication. turn Retrospecting, I did not realize that we were afloat again, till a call at the wagon door, "Ingelheim!" roused me. I sprang out, looked encouragingly down on my trunks, and paused a moment to watch the red lamp on the rear of the train spinning away toward Mainz. I turned to find myself alone on the broad, stone pavement before the depot. It was a wonderful scene which met my gaze. The land, darkly spotted with patches of pine forests, sloped evenly down to the river, two miles distant, upon which two islands lay still and brooding; the Tunnel mountains rising steeply out of rye fields and vineyards on the other side, traced pale, purple lines against the dim, eastern sky. The whole Rheingan, rich and fertile, was visible from Mainz to Bingen. Down in the lake-like curve at Bingen, the sun presses his last kiss upon the trembling waves, when the rest of the stream lies already in shadow; to-night, the same ardents flash and tremor as thousands of years ago. I was still a half hour from my destination, but that did not disturb me, for I knew that Aunt Mohr's carriage stood behind the depot waiting for me; I only wondered that the sharp-nosed coachman did not come for my trunks. Going to see why, I found neither coach nor coachman, nor transport of any kind. Startled, I asked a lonely maiden, washing the windows, what it meant. "Frau President's carriage was here more than an hour ago," she replied, "to get you at the other train; there was an old lady and little girl in it" "Yes, that was mother and Dolly," I interrupted," nodding confidentially. She did not congratulate me, which, after the first moment did not surprise me, but continued; "The little girl said the coachman must go right home again, because Tante Mohr would think something had happened, but he could come for you to the next train." It was all clear to me now, Dolly had taken the business into her own hands, as she delights to do, and had arranged a double ride for herself. I looked up the long, white high-way, but saw nothing of the returning carriage, and concluded I should not, this night. The Protector had taken me about in Coblenz an hour and a half too long, and they in Ingelheim thought I had not left Lahnstein as I expected. Giving my baggage to the porter, I started afoot along the right-angular highway. I could have gone diagonally, but who ever knew an old lady's carriage to take a short cut, or a field road? And I still firmly hoped to meet coach and coachman. The twilight faded trom the highway and the lamps were being lighted behind the dim window-panes, as I passed through the winding village street. garden gates were still open and the house door yielded silently to my touch. The servant's room lies at the left of the broad, stone hall. The door opened and my pet sprang out; her quick ear had caught my step. We stole softly up the brown, shining stair-case into Aunt's sanctum, and found both old ladies sitting in the deep, dusky window niche, cosily wondering what had kept me in L., and if I would come to-mor The row. After the natural surprise and regrets, Aunt asked, "How much baggage have you, must I send the carriage this evening?" 66 My trunks can wait until to-morrow, but that Australian accacia stands in the baggage room and it may freeze to-night; the porter does not know whether it is a bencoop or a hyena's travelling carriage, and will not surely think it is a tree in want of a little heat." This brought the old lady to her feet, for she had written, "bring me that tree, well protected against winter weather." Two handmaidens were sent to the depot in hot haste, and within the hour, they tramped into the room, with my tree, as I had half expected, wrong end up. Then and there I ceased to rail at the colossal cords and lathes which had made people think I was travelling with a menagerie. "In the first sweet sleep of night, I awoke, thinking it was raining heavily; it was only the fountain under my front chamber window, and the great stone well in the back yard, pouring water constantly through two spouts. It always requires a few nights to get used to this continual splash and patter and trickle. This is a splendid water right, secured to the estate only after a twenty years law suit with the town, or somebody else. Here, years ago, I heard the first nightingale, and every summer when I come here, I sit hours in the grove, down by the meadow, on the edge of the pond, listening to its bewildering song. It is a stupid, helpless, little fellow, notwithstanding its voice, and requires the protection of all the police. laws which were ever invented for birds. Until the last few years, not a cat was allowed on the place, and every spring the magpies' nests were torn away from the highest tree-tops. Then there was a glorious concert, morning and evening; amorous calls were flung down from the tallest poplars and answered from the crimson starred cherry trees. But since some years, two cats stretch themselves lazily before the kitchen fire, or sneak guiltily among the bushes, and in that time the magpies have increased and the wonderful songsters diminished. For forty years this house has been a hot-bed of rebel | lon, one of the head-quarters of restless schemers. Not a political reformer in this part of Germany, but has slept under this roof, or drank of the red wines which flow here almost as freely as the crystal streams out of the moss-spotted, gray stone well. Here and there, a straggler still comes to the house, to pay reverent greeting to its clustering memories and chat with its proprietress about the harvest being now gathered - the harvest of German unity, for which they have labored ever since they can remember. One of the last guests here, was Berthold Auerbach, the poet-novelist. For the recruits, the old lady has an encouraging, almost dictatorial air, but for the old "Guard," all the sunshine of her good will. Then, the stout little lady prims up, takes off her specs, taps her snuff box, offers it to her guest, and listens to his relation with a very stately, complaisant manner. The old time glides before her vision and mine too, and I half wish I could grasp the reins here, recall the old regime, and preside as this woman has done, over a miniature court of wits, schemers, and enthusiasts. But the time for such small way-stations is past. Germany is so nearly united, that a part of the discontent is disarmed, a part dazzled, and the part which still battles points its lances in Berlin. When men shall have found that this new arrangement is not complete, and not at all the thing they want, we shall have long passed away and there will remain but a dim tradition of the old time revelry in this house. But as long as house and grounds remain in statu quo, it will be a paradise for youthful visitors. There is a grove with a dizzy swing in it, a pond with a boat and island upon it, and little fleet rivule's everywhere. Peaches and grapes alternate upon trellises around the high wall and along the two stone terrac |