Marble Hill press., 1893-03-30

have our usual custom tonight; and il
you don't believe in that kind of thing
, if you will just step outside the dool
for little while l will be much
obliged to YOU"
o, there are many Christian parents
who have not the courage of that West
ern trapper. They do not want theii
religion projecting too eonspicuously.
They would like to have it near by 50
as to call on it in case of funeral; but
as to having it dominant in the house
hold from the first of January, o'clock
a. m, to the thirty-frst of December,
10 o'clock p. m, they do not want il.
They would rather die, and have their
families perish with them than to cry
out in the bold words of the soldier in
my text: ''As for me and my house,
we will serve the Lord"
There was, in my ancestral line, an
incident 50 strangely impressive that
it seems more like romance than re-
ality. 1t has sometimes been SO mac
curately put forth that now give you
the true incident. My grandfather
and grandmother, living at Somerville,
n. j.. went to Baskingridge to witness
a revival under the ministry of the
Rev. DR.. Finley. They came home so
impressed with what they had seen,
that they resolved on the salvation of
their children.
The young people Of the house were
to go off for an evening party, and my
grandmother said:
Now, when YOU are all ready for
the party, come to my room, for have
something very important to tell you. :"
All ready for departure, they came to
her room, and she said to them: Now,
| want you to remember, while you are
away this evening, that / am all the
time in this room PRAYING for your sal
vation, and l shall not cease praying
until you get back" The young peo-
pie went to the party, but amid the
loudest hilarities of the night they
could not forget that their mother was
praying for them. The evening passed
and the night passed.
The next day my grandparents heard
a. outcry in an adjoining room, and
they went in and found their daughter
imploring the salvation of the Gospel.
The daughter told them that the broth
ers were at the barn and at the wagon
house under powerful conviction CT
sin. They went to the barn. They
found my uncle Jehiah, who after
wards became minister of the Gospel.
crying to God for mercy. They went
to the wagon-house. They found their
son David, who afterwards became my
father, imploring Gods pardon and
mercy. Before great while the
whole family were saved, and David
went and told the story to young
woman to whom he was atfianced, who.
as result of the story, became Chris
tian, and from her own lips-my moth
er's-l have received the incident.
The story of that converted house
hold ran through all the neighbor-
hood, from family to family, until the
whole region was whelmed with relig-
ious awakening, and at the next COM
munion in the village church at Somer-
vile, over two hundred souls stood up
to profess the faith of the gospel. My
mother, carrying the memory of this
scene from early womanhood into
father life, in after years was resolved
upon ths salvation of her children, and
for many years every week she met
three other Christian mothers to pray
for the salvation of their families. /
think that all the members of those
families were saved-myself, the
youngest and the last.
There were twelve of us children. |
trace the whole line of mercy back to
that hour when my Christian grand
mother sat in her room imploring the
blessings of God upon her children.
Nine of her descendants became
preachers of the Gospel. Many of her
descendants are in heaven, many Of
them still in the Christian conflict. Did
it pay for her to spend the whole even
ing in prayer for her household? Ask
her before the throne of God. sur
rounded by her children. In the pres
ence of the Christian Church to-day, I
make this record of ancestral picty.
Oh. there is a beauty, and tenderness,
and sublimity in family religion.
There are but four OF ive pictures in
the old family Bible that l inherited,
but Dore never illustrated Bible as
that book is illustrated to my eyes.
Through it l can see into marriages
and burials, joys and sorrows, meet
ings and partings, Thanksgiving days
and Christmas festivals, cradles and
death beds. Old, old book! speak out
and tell of the sorrows comforted, and
of the dying hours irradiated Old, old
book! the hands that held thee are
ashes, the eyes that perused thee are
closed. Whata pillow thou wouldst
make for a dying head! 1 salute all the
memories OF the past when I press it to
my heart, and when l press it to my
lips.
Oh, that family Bible! The New
Testament in small type is not worthy
of being called by that name. Have a
whole Bible in large type, with the
family record of marriages and births
and deaths. What if the curious should
turn over the leaves to see how old you
are? You are younger now than you
will ever be again. The curious will
lind out from those with whom you
have played in your childhood how old
you are. Have a family Bible. 1t will
go down from generation to genera
tion, full of holy memories A hun
dred years after you are dead it will
be benediction to those who come