Morning Star

A Burning Heart.

"Did not our hearts burn within us, while he talked with us by the way."

Luke 24: 32.

It happened, one evening in the spring of 1816, that the ordination of a missionary was solemnized in an ancient market town. The congregation that assembled to witness the novel scene was very large, and much affected. One gentleman who attended was so deeply interested, that the next morning he sent the missionary a gold seal, wrapped in a two-pound note, and accompanied by a beautiful letter, of which the following is an extract:

"I beg your acceptance of this seal; and with the note in which it is enveloped, I wish you to get engraved on it this device--A heart, and from the heart a flame issuing, and over the flame the word Messiah. I wish to have this done, from the conviction on my mind, that a flame of love is continually ascending from your heart to that adorable Person."

If this were a faithful picture of the missionary's heart, he must be a happy man.—Alas! that the likeness should be so faint! Yet it suggested what ought to be the case, and furnished a constant memento to watchfulness and prayer. Since that period, half of the people who were then living, have been called into eternity. What a solemn thought! Perhaps the benevolent gentlemen who presented this seal is also dead; but, if he is still living, and his eye should behold this, he will recollect the circumstance, and please to accept the grateful acknowledgement of the recipient. A burning heart or a heart on fire with love to the adorable Redeemer, is mentioned but once in the whole bible. The persons who were favored with this sweet experience, were "the two disciples going to Emmaus." It was produced by the conversation of the condescending Savior, and the effect arising from it was what might have been expected. It was, indeed, peculiarly delightful. Let us join the interesting travellers, and see how much instruction we can gain from their society. On first coming up with them, we hear them "reasoning." The name of one is Cleopas, but the name of the other disciple is unknown. No doubt they witnessed the scenes of Gethsemane, where their Master was apprehended; they also saw him on Mount Calvary, nailed to the cross, and insulted by the multitude, and pierced by the soldier's spear. When Christ was apprehended in the garden, all his disciples forsook him and fled; but they soon began to collect together again. John followed his Lord to the high priest's hall; and poor Peter could not restrain from getting as near to him as possible, though, in doing it, he fell into bad company, and Satan sifted him as wheat, and there he thrice denied his Master. Oh! we cannot tell with what an anxious and disappointed look they gazed on Him whom they once thought would have redeemed Israel.—But now he is crucified, dead and buried; and his enemies were indulging their insolent triumph, and the disciples were scattered, as sheep having no shepherd. Cleopas and another had now left Jerusalem, and were going to a village about sixty furlongs off; and as they went, they reasoned. In a time of great darkness, of spiritual conflict and depression, the enemy is peculiarly active. This is the hour and the power of darkness. All his fiery darts are levelled at the soul It is Satan's sifting time: and a truly pious man may be so harassed by temptations, as to be ready to give up all for lost—to be hopeless—to dispute—to doubt—to despair. Perhaps all these feelings were operating, at this moment, upon the heart of Cleopas and his brother; for we next perceive they were gloomy. Joy and peace flow from believing: but gloom and unbelief are intimate companions, and they are seldom long absent from each other. What a dreadful state of mind this is! and what a still more dreadful state it leads to, if boundless mercy do not interpose! For "the fearful and unbelieving shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone." But, happily for these gloomy disciples, there is one near them who can turn their mourning into joy. Jesus himself drew near, and said unto them, "What manner of communications are these that ye have one with another, as ye walk, and are sad?" This question seems to have astonished them.—'Sad!'" Strange if it were not so!—if thou wert merely a stranger in Jerusalem, thou couldst not have asked this question. How can we help being sad? Hast thou not heard what things are come to pass there in these days? And he said, "What things?"* "Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in word and deed before God and all the people, and how the chief priests and our rulers delivered him to be condemned to death, and have crucified him; but we trusted that it had been he who should have redeemed Israel." Yes, once we had great hopes—we saw his miracles—we witnessed his devotion—we heard the gracious words which proceeded out of his mouth; and we surely thought, This is the promised seed—this is the Virgin's Son—the Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace; but now he has been crucified as a blasphemer, and all our hopes are buried in his grave. Yet, we know not how to account for it, but we cannot give up all hopes respecting him. Surely he cannot be a deceiver. : There is yet truth in all he said. Thus our minds are torn asunder between hope and fear, and joy and grief. "Yea, and certain women also of our company made us astonished, who were early at the sepulchre; and, when they found not his body, they came, saying, that they had seen a vision of angels, which said that he was alive." What can all this mean? This, this is the cause of our sadness. Now, mark the change. Christ begins by chiding them; "O fools. and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Ought not Christ to have suffered these things and to enter into his glory?" Was it not a suffering Messiah that was promised? Was he not to have been cut off, but not for himself? Is it not by his stripes that sinners must be healed? Why, you seem quite to have mistaken the matter. You fancied that you were to have a Messiah crowned with the glories of this world, and forgot that he was to be "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." "And, beginning at Moses, and all the prophets, he expounded unto them, in all the scriptures, the things concerning himself." And now, now is the happy moment when the heart begins to warm. A spark is kindled; and, as he proceeds, the flame increases—"Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures?" Now let us trace the effects of this burning heart on the two disciples. 1. Behold their kindness to the stranger. "Their eyes were holden, that they should not know him! but he had touched a string in their hearts which set their whole souls in motion. They felt an indescribable attachment to him, and here we see it. The village whither they went, was at hand. The stranger "made as though he would have gone further;" but that could
not be: no, no: you have made our hearts glad; you have cheered our souls by those views of divine truth which you have given us; and, though you are a stranger, yet we cannot permit you to pass this village without one mark of our grateful esteem. "Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent." We hail you as a friend and a brother.

2. It led to an affectionate and reciprocal communication of their religious experience.

Their hearts had been burning for some time; yet they did not know what was passing in each other's breast, until their lips unfolded the secret. "Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked with us by the way, and opened to us the scriptures?"

This may furnish some observations on the conversation of disciples. What profitable moments might be spent while visiting a friend, if the time were occupied in a reciprocal communication of religious experience! Christ cannot be expected to draw near, and to introduce himself, and to warm your hearts, if all the talk is engrossed by worldly things. We need not wonder at the coldness, and leanness, and uselessness of multitudes, where so much of their precious time is spent about matters, if not sinful, yet of no importance.

3. They made known the glad tidings to others.

The flame was at work; and, although it was a hidden fire at first, yet it could not long remain so; it must have vent.

Midnight was approaching, and it might not appear quite so safe to return to Jerusalem at that unseasonable hour: yet to wait until the morning was impossible.

They had something to communicate to their brethren, which to them appeared of infinite importance: and away they go—"the love of Christ constrained them."

Sleep, distance, midnight, difficulties, dangers—all, all seemed as nothing to the enraptured disciples. Oh! what a mercy would it be, if there were such a heart in every one of us!—if the word of the Lord were like a fire in our bones!—if we felt a zeal for God, not to be repressed nor intimidated: which would lead us to rise early and sit up late, and to labor in season and out of season; yea, to circumnavigate the globe, in order to proclaim the love of the crucified and risen Savior!

This would be delightful indeed. Oh! if this feeling were general among Christians, then we might confidently expect that the gospel would soon be preached to every creature.

These men afterwards became preachers—and what preachers? we cannot expect equal endowments in the present day; yet it may be set down as a solemn truth, that, whatever qualifications a preacher may have, if his heart is not warm, there will be little good done by his ministry.

A blunt instrument, if it be burning hot, will make a deep impression. Nothing can stand before fire.—London Evangelical Mag. for Dec.