"In the same manner we know that the books of the Bible were written by the men whose names they bear, and can distinctly retrace them to their authors, both by history and tradition. Besides, God enabled them to perform many miracles, such as healing the sick, opening the eyes of the blind, raising the dead to life, to prove that they had received authority from him. Ha also enabled them to foretell many events which have since taken place, and thereby has set his seal to their commission.
"A poor negro was once asked, 'What reasons have you for believing the Bible to be the word of God?'
"'Me have no reasons, massa,' was the good man's artless reply. 'Me want no reasons. Me read the precious book, and me feel it in here,' putting his hand upon his heart. 'Me know God wrote it for poor creatures just like me.'
"The Bible carries its own arguments with it. Its writers often refer to this internal evidence of its truth. 'He that believeth shall know of the doctrine.' 'Be ye transformed by the renewing of your minds, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable, and perfect will of God.'
"Multitudes have in this way learned the divine truth and power of the Holy Scriptures.
"Many years ago I read of a pious widow who lived in the northern part of England. She had one son. This boy, whose name was Charles, from being her pet and darling, became her scourge and her cross. He loved bad company, and at length declared his intention of going to sea. His mother, with many tears and sad forebodings, bade him farewell; but as she did so, she put into his hand a New Testament inscribed with her name and his own, solemnly and tenderly entreating that he would keep it and read it for her sake. Year after year elapsed, bearing to heaven the record of her prayers and tears, and still no tidings of her boy!
"At length her maternal anxiety could brook no longer delay. She set out alone for London, where she went about making inquiries concerning the vessel in which Charles had sailed. She one day mot a sea captain, who told her the ship had been wrecked long before, adding, 'They were a wicked crew, especially a cabin boy by the name of Charles—. He was so depraved and profligate, that it were a good thing if he and all like him were at the bottom of the sea.'
"Pierced to her inmost soul, this unhappy mother withdrew from the house, and hastened to her retired home. The language of her heart was, 'I shall go down to the grave mourning for my son.'
"Some years elapsed, when one night, a half-naked sailor knocked at her door to ask relief. He had seen great perils in the deep, had been several times wrecked, but, said he, 'I have never been so dreadfully destitute as I was some years back, when I and a fine young gentleman were the only ones saved of a whole ship's crew. We were cast upon a desert island, where, after seven days, I closed his eyes. Poor fellow! I never shall forget him;' And here the tears stole down his weather-beaten cheeks.
"'He read day and night,' continued the sailor, 'in a little book which he said his mother gave him, and which was the only thing he saved from the wreck. It was his companion every moment. He wept for his sins; he prayed; he kissed the volume; he talked of nothing but this book and his mother; and when he died, he gave it to me, with many thanks for my poor services.