Warning: file_put_contents(/www/wwwroot/18.104.22.168/cache/8f1071764f19aade8543836f0c5918c4c8c98c47.log): failed to open stream: No space left on device in /www/wwwroot/22.214.171.124/index.php on line 90
时间：2021-10-19 23:22:02 作者：扣非净利三年两亏 蒙牛入主妙可蓝多能否撑起212倍估值？ 浏览量：47826
But we must not stop there; for the memorial is not merely a proof of the facts of the crucifixion, but is also a proof of the doctrine of the cross. We have found that the memorial could not possibly have been introduced at any subsequent date, but that its institution must be traced up to the fountain-head, even to the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and those words of His, p. 80“Do this in remembrance of me.” But this is not the whole of the passage, and we must not forget those other words, “This is my body, which is given for you,” and, “This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you.” The memorial, therefore, is not merely a memorial of the death, but of the purpose of it, and of the great principle which underlies the whole. It is a monument of those two sentences, “given for you” and “shed for you.” If it were a granite column instead of a simple service, these would be the two sentences to be engraved upon it; or if men wished to make the inscription shorter still, they might be content with two words, and write “For you;” for these two words contain the pith and marrow of the whole matter. It is not, therefore, merely the fact that He died of which the Lord’s Supper is a divinely-appointed witness, but the fact that He died as a vicarious satisfaction for sin—“a propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.” It is well for us, therefore, to look carefully at the certain and undeniable fact, that in this nineteenth century the Lord’s Supper is observed in some form or other wherever the name of the Lord Jesus Christ is known; to consider well the utter impossibility of its being introduced at any period subsequent to the foundation of the Gospel, or by any person except by Him who said, “This do in remembrance of me;” and so to accept the assurance of its testimony that the body there given was given for us, and the blood there shed was p. 81shed for us. Divine atonement then is the great truth visibly signed and sealed to us by God’s divine memorial; and when we kneel together before that table of His, we may accept for our own soul’s everlasting peace, not merely the fact that He died, but the truth that He died as a propitiation for our sins; that His body was given in our behalf, or for us, and His blood shed in our behalf, or for us; and that therefore, without any further propitiatory sacrifice, or any supplementary mode of reconciliation, believing in Him, we are perfectly, immediately, and eternally free.
Mr. Antrobus arrived here in any case at eight o’clock in the morning; I don’t know how he managed it; it appears to be his favourite hour; wherever we’ve heard of him he has come in with the dawn. In England he would arrive at 5.30 P.M. He asks innumerable questions, but they’re easy to answer, for he has a sweet credulity. He made me rather ashamed; he’s a better American than so many of us; he takes us more seriously than we take ourselves. He seems to think we’ve an oligarchy of wealth growing up which he advised me to be on my guard against. I don’t know exactly what I can do, but I promised him to look out. He’s fearfully energetic; the energy of the people here is nothing to that of the inquiring Briton. If we should devote half the zeal to building up our institutions that they devote to obtaining information about them we should have a very satisfactory country. Mr. Antrobus seemed to think very well of us — which surprised me on the whole, since, say what one will, it’s far from being so agreeable as England. It’s very horrid that this should be; and it’s delightful, when one thinks of it, that some things in England are after all so hateful. At the same time Mr. Antrobus appeared to be a good deal preoccupied with our dangers. I don’t understand quite what they are; they seem to me so few on a Newport piazza this bright still day. Yet alas what one sees on a Newport piazza isn’t America; it’s only the back of Europe. I don’t mean to say I haven’t noticed any dangers since my return; there are two or three that seem to me very serious, but they aren’t those Mr. Antrobus apprehends. One, for instance, is that we shall cease to speak the English language, which I prefer so to any other. It’s less and less spoken; American’s crowding it out. All the children speak American, which as a child’s language is dreadfully rough. It’s exclusively in use in the schools; all the magazines and newspapers are in American. Of course a people of fifty millions who have invented a new civilisation have a right to a language of their own; that’s what they tell me, and I can’t quarrel with it. But I wish they had made it as pretty as the mother-tongue, from which, when all’s said, it’s more or less derived. We ought to have invented something as noble as our country. They tell me it’s more expressive, and yet some admirable things have been said in the Queen’s English. There can be no question of the Queen over here of course, and American no doubt is the music of the future. Poor dear future, how “expressive” you’ll be! For women and children, as I say, it strikes one as very rough; and, moreover, they don’t speak it well, their own though it be. My small nephews, when I first came home, hadn’t gone back to school, and it distressed me to see that, though they’re charming children, they had the vocal inflexions of little news-boys. My niece is sixteen years old; she has the sweetest nature possible; she’s extremely well-bred and is dressed to perfection. She chatters from morning till night; but its helplessness breaks my heart. These little persons are in the opposite case from so many English girls who know how to speak but don’t know how to talk. My niece knows how to talk but doesn’t know how to speak.
1.I found a right royal welcome awaiting me. I got back into the fight, and while meeting with occasional disappointments, made some progress. I have been on the outside now for over two years, and I can say that in that time I have never lapsed in[Pg 111] my endeavors. I have congenial employment, and am happy doing it. I have met the one girl, and my friend, the minister, made us one. I am happier now than I have ever been before.
It was an afternoon of an early autumn as I alighted from the conveyance which had brought the guard and me from the station. The first impression I received on viewing the collection of buildings was that of a student looking for the first time on the school which is to be his Alma Mater. Had not the judge told me that here I[Pg 32] would find friends and an education to fit me for the later life? The fact that I had been convicted of a criminal offense made no difference in these impressions. I was like a curious student, anxious to know what the years would bring, and what possibilities the institution held. I entered the office conducted by my guard. He removed my shackles and I stood before the head of the institution. He greeted me kindly, gave me some words of advice and turned me over to one of the clerks.