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J. F. DAGG, Editor. VOL. nXIV.-New Series, Vol. 25. •mr :E3 busl mm sm • 1. The Ohbistian- Index is a woeklj publication.— Fifty numbers in the year are mailed to each subscri ber for §2 50, or *2 00 in advance. 2. Discontinuance may be ordered by the subscribers at the close of any year, provided all arrearages have keen paid: or by the Editor, at his discretion, whenever more than one year’s subscription is due. 3. Any person who remits §lO in advance for five new subscribers, may receive the paper for one year.. 4. Anv minister of the “ospal who remits §8 in ad vance for four new subscribers, may receive the paper one yenr. 5. Communications should be addressed, cost-paid, to the Christian Index. The Law of Newspapers. 1. Subscribers who do not give express notice to the contrary, are considered as wishing to continue their subscription. 2. If subscribers order the discontinuance of their newspapers, the publisher may continue to send them until all arrearages are paid. If subscribers neglect or refuse to take their news papers from the offices to which they are directed, they are held responsible until they have settled the bills and ordered them discontinued. 4. [f subscribers remove to other places without in forming the publishers and the newspapers are sent to the former direction, they are held responsible. 5. The Courts have decided that refusing to take newspapers from the office or removing anil leaving them uncalled for, is prima facie evidence of intention al fraud. The United States Courts have also repeatedly de cided that a Postmaster who neglects to perform his duty of giving reasonable notice, as required by the Post Office Department, of the neglect of a person to take from the office newspapers addressed to him, ren ders the Postmaster liable to the publisher for the sub scription price. Front’ the Tennessee Baptist. INDIAN MISSIONS. Our denomination has three distinct mis sion enterprises, beside other important objects of benevolence, each worthy 01, ami demanding, special attention. 1 regard onr Home Mission enterprise as the most important, both to our prosperity at home and our efficiency abroad ; I shall there fore say nothing to abate public in Home Missions. I was among the first who engaged ac tively in co-operation with that great and good man, Luther Rice, after his return from India, to awaken a Fdreign Mission spirit in the American churches; nor lias my zeal for Foreign Missions abated by the lapse of years. I shall therefore say nothing to impair its claims upon the at tention and liberality of the churches. Tin-: Birlk Cause, especially as a depart ment of our home mission work, is of par amount importance, in my estimation ; ; and I would be very far from saying any thing that would lessen its importance in the estimation of the churches, or to impair its claims upon their attention and libe rality. , . . • , Education, general and ministerial, am. other departments of Christian enterprise and benevolence, share in my solicitudes and prayers; but the Indian Mission oc cupies a peculiar place in my affections. I think it lias jtevuliar drums upon the American churches; and I think it has been yreatly neglected, j f rmu my earnest recollection, I have found myself specialty inclined to fa cot’ thaw who were neglected by others; and perhaps this constitutional disposition may be one reason why I feel special favor tor the Indian Mission enter prise. Let that be as it may, howevci, I wish to call special attention to it at tins time; hoping that I shall be able to point out the causes ol its present embarrass ment, and the means by which it may be revived. Having been at the foundation <>t the American Indian Mission Association, aim for many years a member of its Board, I may claim to have some acquaintance with its history—successes and difficulties. I do not. intend, however, to enter farther upon its history than to say, that it has had, from the very beginning, to make its wav against nnpurallelled difficulties and opposing influences: and yet, despite nt them all, it has achieved results unparal lelled in the history of missions; especially when we take into consideration the diffi culties with which it has had to contend. Some have supposed that the Indian Mission was unpopular; but this is not true in the South, especially in Alabama, and Mississippi. The cause ot its declension cannot be ascribed to its want of popularity in the South, especially in the three States referred to above ; but wholly to other causes, some of which I shall point out. As I propose to speak of those causes ot its present embarrassment, which I think can be remedied, I pass over all those embarrassments which grew out of the opposition to its organization, from the North, and the collision ot interests >t the missionaries of the two societies in the Indian country ; because all these difficul ties have been, mainly, overcome. The embarrassments with which it has had, and still has, to contend, arising from speculators, and the peculiar policy ot the Government, in regard to the Indians, can only be remedied in a progressive way, and I, therefore, leave those also for a tu tu re occasion. The present specially embarrassed ton fjtion of the mission, I regard as resulting Wn>m the fact that the brethren of the Board riii Louisville have had “too many irons in the fire.” Tam if: f tube undecstotxl asme fleeting in any possible way, cither upon the zeal or intelligence, of the lomxcdle sl)i’ (HljriMum “b ex | brethren. The same result would have oc curred anywhere, with any other brethren where the same or similar causes operate, It only goes to furnish another demonstra | tion, to the many which have preceded it, that no man or set of men, can successful ly direct and manage two diverse interests , ! either of which is sufficient to engage all then’ zeal and energy. The members of the Indian Mission Board, are mostly of the Walnut Street Church ; and although many of them were members of the Board before that Church was organized, and although they had even greater difficulties to contend with, as a Board, before they undertook to build their large and splendid temple, than they have had since; still they successfully conflicted with those difficulties, and the mission was I sustained, and even enlarged. The breth ren, doubtless, felt quite as much interest in the mission, after they undertook that building as they did before ; but, they had to divide their attention and time between two great enterprises, either of which was quite enough for all their skill and energy, consequently the mission suffered. But the building of their house of worship did not engage their attention but for a limit ed time, and when that was accomplished, had no other interest supervened to divide their attention, I doubt not, that their en tire time and attention would have been ! devoted to the Indian Mission, and that they would soon have restored it to pros | peri tv, but just at this conjuncture, the Board of the Revision Association was located at Louisville, and, nearly the same j brethren, especially the more active and j influential, are members of both Boards.— It is virtually one Board, managing these two great interests, either of which is of sufficient magnitude and importance to en gage all the wisdom and energy of any Board in any community. What else ; could be expected, but that One or both of these interests should suffer l If these two interests shared equally in the zeal and at tention of the Board and community, I hesitate not to say that they both suffered ; hut if one interest was more popular with the members of the Board, or Boards, and tiie community, than the other, then the result would be as in other cases—“the big fish would eat up the little one.” The most popular absorbs the less popular. Now, I maintain, that no set of brethren, j whether you call them one Board, or two I Boards, are capable of managing success-j fully these two important interests. Eitli- j er of them is quite enough to engage the j head and heart of any Board in the United j States : and one or both interests mustsuf- | so they are separated ! j Either the Indian Mission Board, or the j Revision Board, must be placed in other hands. 1 repeat it—let no suspicious head or heart, suppose that in this I am in any way reflecting upon the brethren in Louis ville. Far from it. I think it possible | that they may he reflected on by many, as I incompetent to the trust; and 1 am aim- : ing to show that such a censure is unjust —their error is, they have undertaken too much. Matthew lias recorded a maxim of onr Lord, which holds good everywhere and in every department ot life: “No MAX CAN SERVE TWO MASTERS.” It is im possible to have our affections equally en listed in behalf of two separate interests, and be zealous in their behalf. A man may be indifferent to either, bathe cannot divide his soul equally between two objects, each of which has claims upon the whole of it. J\ r o Board can serve two greed interests! What, makes the matter still mure un favorable to the brethren at Louisville is, that all the Boards of the State organiza tions have been united in one, and that is located at Louisville, and the brethren, mainly, who are members of the other two Boards?, are members of this State Board also. Now, I say fearlessly, that there is not a set of men on earth, that can do justice to all these Boards and the interests involv ed. The brethren are doing themselves essential wrong by undertaking so much more than human strength and skill can accomplish. While at the Mississippi State Conven tion, I learned from brethren there, that the Board of Indian Missions had express ed a wish, or willingness, to have the In dian Missions transferred to the Home Mission department of the Southern Con vehtion ; a committee of the" Mississippi Convention read a report, based <>n this information, which will appear in their minutes. Now I want it understood that I am opposed to such a transfer; for the very reasons stated above; that no Board can possibly supervise and direct two such interests. The Board at Marion has its hands full already, and should the Indian Mission be fojsted in upon them, it would prove, inevitably, the death of either, the Home, or the Indian Mission ; and I be lieve that the Indian Mission would he •crushed under the other. One great drawback upon the Indian Mission enterprise has been, and still is, that it lias been isolated from our other great benevolent enterprises, * and conse quently its anniversaries have been but thinly attended; end its influence upon the localities, where its anniversaries have been held, lias been to leave the impression that it was a small and unimportant affair. Now to remedy all these evils, I pro pose that the'Southern Convention take j the Indian Mission under its care, just as Penfield,. Georgia, Thursday, .human 25, 1855. j the Hume and Foreign Missions and the j | Bible cause are, and that unsuitable Board j at a suitable location, be appointed by the ; I Convention, as in the case of the three ! Boards above mentioned; and that it be ; : identified with onr Southern organizations. I write this article in time to be trans ferred to other Southern journals, if im proved, so that if the members of the In ! dian Mission Association concur in this plan, an arrangement may be made at the i ensuing meeting of the Convention, in I May next. WM. C. BUCK. 1 Columbus, Miss., Jan. 1, 1855. CHRIST OUR EXAMPLE. The archer who shoots at the sun, will j send his arrow higher than he who aims at ! tlie pinnacle of the loftiest spire. So the Christian who imitates his Master, will at tain a higher degree of holines than he who follows his Saviour by sedulously repeat ing the footsteps of some favored disciple. One of the most affecting mysteries in j the character of our blessed Lord, is that I adorable combination of natures which in- I vites us to worship him as our God, and at | the same time to love and confide in Him |as our “Elder Brother!” O mystery, sub | lime and consoling! Our Saviour is too high, in majesty, for us to forget tiiat he is King—and yet he is too near for us to for get that he is bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh. Did it please the Redeemer to walk our streets as he did those of Jerusalem, could our eyes behold his human form and match less face, could we hear the voice of Him who spake as never man spake, with what emotions of awe, of love unspeakable, of rapt admiration, would we stand by side and follow his steps whithersoever he should go 1 Suppose, under such circumstances, “the Lamb slain from the foundation or the world,” were to turn to you, Christian reader, call you by your name, take you familiarly by the hand and converse with you with that divine tenderness and pow er which knit tho affections of his disci ples to him, and caused their hearts to burn as he talked with them on the wal My friend, wlmt would be your feelings? Ah, your tongue would in vain strive to litter the big emotions of your heart; your eyes would overflow with happy tears, and grateful and irrepressible affection would well up from the deepest -fountain of your nature. With wlmt grtttrfied -humility - would you, “a creature of yesterday,” lis ten to the words of your incarnate God! — Earthly honors would be despicable in your eves, earthly loves weak and unsatisfying in comparison with the unspeakable honor and the fathomless love bestowed upon you. You would emulate Enoch in your sanctified ambition to walk with God; and the happy days of paradisaical privilege would seem to be revived when Jehovah talked face to face with his favorite crea ture. Nay, it would be more; you would not fail to*remember that the eyes which now regard with such divine compassion, once closed in the agony of death for your sake, that the voice which now tails lively upon your ear, once cried for you, the bit ter cry, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me;” that the hand Which now presses yours in the.token off friendship, was once pierced by nails, by which lie was suspended fur you on I he accursed tree. These recollections would give to your grat itude and love, an ardour and vehement strength which no being hut your Sariour could excite. Suppose, then, the Saviour were to ask of you the question once addressed to Pi - ter, turning his eyes upon you and naming you distinctly, “Lovest thou me?” 0 Christian, would you not fall down before that “Sovereign of your heart” and ex claim with unaffected fervor, “Lord thou knowost that 1 10-e thee?” And should the Lord then say, “Take up thy cross and follow me,” could you hesitate, would you ask to go first and bury vour dead ? Would your heart be divided between this sinful, perishing world, and your Saviour, God evidently set before you in his divine glo ry and human perfection? 1 trow not; you would gla ly exclaim : “Jesus! 1 my cross have taken, All to leave and follow thee: Naked, poor, despised, forsaken; Thou from hence my all shall be.” No one who saw you would doubt, the faithfulness and sincerity of your love. To be the companion of the veiled . King of Glory, you would cast behind yon the so ciety of princes and the converse of sages. To be near his divine person, yen would forsake, it need be, the mother who bore you, or the partner <d your life; you would drink in eagerly the lessons ofsublime vir tue which would flow from his lips; you would imitate zealously his kind and win ning deportment, and would prove vour devotion to his interest, and your recep tion of his principles, by proclaiming to men wherever you went,the greatness and goodness of your Master, and would not; tail to commend those qualities to their j minds by the reflected light which would j shine forth in your conversation and life. To be separated from the‘Saviour would be to you tlie'koeuest grief, nor would you rest until you had regained “that blessed j station” by his side, or at least the more J modest position, behind him, following the footsteps and keeping always in sight of Him, who would be tb.e light and the “life of your soul. THE TRUTH IN LOVE. Christian reader! would not this be so? It indeed would. To be the companion of a Seraph or an Archangel would be an honor so replete with glory and blessing that the inimi (‘rtuiiot grasp its reality or vits consequences; but to be the companion and friend of Jesus, of the Christ , of the Almighty Cod, is a thought which even the “Seraph who burns in the sun,” can not entertain, 60 ineffably bright and hojy is the privilege.. But, Christian, what wo have spoken of as a supposition, is a real r iiy. The union of the true believer with Cluist, is a glorious mystery which can .never be understood until we stand before the throne in heaveirr The faithful are one with Christ —they shall sit with Him on his throne; the propriety of God in Christ is declared to lie the same of Christ in his people, “whether the world, or life, or death, or tilings present, or things to come, all are yours and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's. My friend,'the only difference between the supposition we have made, (i. e. of Christ’s material presence) and the reality, (i. e. his spiritual presence) is in the me dium through which we apprehend the Sa viour. The Redeemer is really and truly present, with each of his people by the Spir it, and in passing, let. us say that some fail to appreciate this great truth by an in distinct imagination that the Spirit is an agent foreign to Christ; that although re lated, they are separable. Now the truth is that they are distinct agents, but evi dently oiie/in essence and nature; Christ and the Spirit are one God. Therefore, if the Spirit of Christ is present with us, Christ himself, n<>t in propria persona}, but in fact and in his power, is present with onr souls. In proportion as tins divine presence is apprehended, so far lias the disciple ad vanced in bis imitation of Christ; and as the sense of the Saviour’s nearness in creases, and solemnizes while it elevates the soul,'so is the believer assured that he is truly following his Lord and successful ly copying liis example. The eye by which the Saviour becomes visible to us is faith, and no organ is more improved by .exercise. One clear enrap turing view of the Saviour iu his character as Mediator, standing between vengeance and our souls, as our Priest who at once was sacrifice and saeriticcr for us, and ever livetb to make intercessions for his people; —one such view begets a longing desire, which turns away unsatisfied from the broken cisterns of earth, and pants again to drink of that living stream which flows from the throne of-God. The believer ele vated, but not intoxicated by the draught, begins to catch the Saviour, begins to feel that heavenly mindedness should be the master spirit of bis life. His purged eye steadfastly regards the Saviour as his pat tern, his great example. “Let me live like Christ,” is his language, “and so will I die in Him.”— Southern Episcopalian . IMPROVEMENT IN CHURCH MUSIC. Singing constitutes an important part of public worship. That it should be engaged in by the whole congregation, is a position I pretty generally maintained in our church.'; Some, of popisii tendencies, may wish this ; part of the worship reserved for the special ■ edi flea lion of the choir,, but with such it is ! not ni.v purpose to enter into an argument. ; The mass of the truly pious will always j wish all who can, to join in t lie praise? of j God’s house. But whilst this is maintain- i ed, it is at the same time the general sen- j timent of our churches that choirs should I lead the music. Experience has shown, : that a choir not only does not interfere ! with congregational singing, but really pro motes it. If any one doubts this, let him compare all the congregations within his knowledge, where the singing is led by a : single individual, the minister perhaps, | with those that have a choir, and he will i find, I doubt not, that the singing is both better, and is joined in by more of the eon- : gregation, among the latter Hass, than among the former. But in churches both with and without choirs, there is far less congregational sing- j ing than is desirable. And if singing be*a part of the worship that must be maintain- ; ed, is it not the duty of every Christian, j even at the expense of time and pains, to i do what he can to remedy the evil ? On this subject 1 wish to make some sugges tions That the plan I propose will not cost some inconvenience on the part of many, Ldo not promise; for we rarely ob tain tor nothing anything worth possessing. But I trust the end will be felt to be worth ! the time and trouble necessary to its ne- : complishinent. It. must be admitted that it is impossible to sing in church, with that harmony es sential to the end of singing, the promo motion of devotional feeling, without pre j vious practice. The choir, in particular, needs it; and the same is desirable for the • congregation. What. I propose to meet this necessity—and the proposition Ithinjc will suit both the churches with choirs and j those without—is to hold meetings for singing in the congregation as frequently | as practicable, say once a fortnight. Let j it be understood that any of the eongrega- ( tion who wish to sing, and particularly the younger members, are desired to attend. — The chorister should have control of the j singing, and the choir, when there is one, be expected to do their part. But let-oth- | er singers, whether they tjng by note or not, join with them, till they learn the tunes sung, well enough to praise God de-’ cMitly in his house. The leader, too,- might give instruction in music, especially for the benefit of tho young, for unless children arg taught to sing, we cannot ex pect to keep up.good singing either in the choir or in the congregation. The objection to leaving the improvement of our church music wholly to singing schools, is that they are not permanent, and never attend ed by any considerable portion4*ff*he con gregation. But if there be no uiie in the church capable of giviifg the necessary in struction, the services of a tnSSic teacher should by all means be engaged, till the choir, or class, becomes independent of him. These meetings should, I think, general ly be held in private bouses throughout the congregation. This is particularly de sirable in the country, where there is no public room but the large church, often cold in winter, looking gloomy at night when only half lighted, and under the most favorable circumstances cheerless and forbidding to a small assembly. Besides the advantage derived from the singing, this would be a pleasant, sociable way for the young, er even those who are not in- j eluded in this wide class, to spend an oc casional evening together. And the hos pitable householdss would not fail to find pleasure in accommodating them. Somo- i tiling of this social feature, both in town ; and country, is necessary to keep up the j interest in these meetings ; for experience has shown how soon, without it, any sing ing association < ies away. ffhe scheme I believe a practical one. even for our most scattered country con gregations. It may not be desirable to continue the meetings throughout the year. The bad weather of winter, the excessive heat of suminer, a particularly busy season with those who attend, or a lack of inter est in the meetings, may either of them render it desirable to discontinue them for a time. But let this bo done formally, be fore the association dies a natural death, and there will be no difficulty in resuming at the appointed time.— -Due West Tele. A WORD TO THE SORROWFUL. “It is good for me that I have been afflicted.” Why am I thus triedJ Tho question is constantly being asked by one and another. Affliction in the present tense is scarce ever recognized as a good. As in the wrench of au operation, the nerves of a patient are distracted and the whole of the vital force is used up in mere endurance, so in afflic tion. Often the soul revolts and rebels under it; its immediate effect seems to bo to in crease our spiritual maladies. Parsons of ten say under severe trials, l used to think I had some self-control, some patience, some good temper. I thought I had to a good degree overcome selfishness and i pride, but these harrassnients and trials seein to upset all. And accordingly a person, when passing through period? of severe trials, often seems to be growing worse, to be becoming bard and irritable and unlovely. A writer has said, it is n#, while the storm is driving the ship on the beach that we go out to look for treasures, but when the storm is laid and tho sun shines out clear, we find the jewels and precious stones which the sea has cast upon the beach. Often iu the height of an afflic tion all comfort is vain, as medicaments in the fury of some diseases. The soul must spend itself, the storm must pass away. It may be months, it may be years : before the soul can come to herself enough to look back ami say “it is good for me that I have been afflicted.” Nor is the good of affliction often perceivable as the result of one paroxysm, but rather as the aggregate of several. The mechanic who would bring out. the clouds and veins of a precious wood seems to harrass and torture it in many ways, and if the wood was a sentient creature it might well complain as the saw and plane and rude pumice stone pass successively over it, and each varnislu is scraped ami rubbed—-nor till the last touch has been given doe 6 one see the full result. So of afflictions. Some are like the strokes of the axe and hammer, split ting and rending the heart of the soul; others are wearing, and long-continued, like the slow work of the file and the pol ishing brush, and very seldom, under tho process, does the soul recognize their use; but after long years,'softened melody of spirit is produced as the result of all. One tiling is remarkable of afflictions, and that is that almost every sou! feels it self stricken in the precise points where it is least able to bear. Oh, were it anything but this—l could bear any thing else, are the most frequent, exclamations of the hour of sorrow. We would bear very com posedlv a superstitious affliction—an afflic tion so called, against which our peculiar jtemperament so fortifies ua that to ns it is no affliction. But when Omniscience puts forth its hand and touches that vital point, known to God alone, where each is most sensitive that is real affliction, and the soul shivers under it. We wo Id change onr afflictions for this or that—God secs that this and this only can fcervo his pur pose Could a diamond speak, when the lapidary is leasurely filing away its glitter ing particles and vexing it with weary frictions and polishing, it might sav: I could bear a good hammer stroke, but. Ob, ; this is wearing my very soul away. Nev ; ertheless the artisan knows that it is not ! J. T. BLAIN, Printer. the hammer but the weary polish that'th’i.t* • diamond must have to make it glitterruy ally at least in a diadem. Such are some of the most common, least valuable of our afflictions—a slow.* wearing, heart-eating process—an affliction oftentimes knoWn and* recognized as such by G<d win. orders it, •and who knows the precise moment when • it is possible to let it cease. Then let the soul deeply engrave in its belief this answer to its offt-reenring ques tion, Why am I thus tried? Because this a fjltctkm and none other could save thee. The great Father is an economist iu all his lavish profusion offriches, but of nothing is bo more saving than of the Borro'rrw~s>f4*r” - beloved—not one tear too much—not one sigh, not one uneasiness or anxiety too much is the lot of the meanest of his ch ose n— lndependent. —. BAP. STATE CONVENTION OF ALABAMA. THE MONUMENT TO HARRY. At the recent meeting of the* Alabama * Baptist State Convention, a resolution was passed and money contributed with mark ed enthusiasm, to erect a monument in the burying ground at Marion over the grave ot Harry, a colored man, formerly belong ing to President Talbird of Howard Col lege. i While the subject was under considera- I however, one of the students of the College gave notice that the students had a. read j made arrangementH themselves to erect such a monument, and it was, there fore, determined that it should be done jointly by the Convention and the students. Harry lost bis life in attempting to awa ke‘n and rescue the young gentlemen who slept in the Collegeat the time of the fire. He and another servant were asleep in the second story. They awaked before the flames had made much progress. His fel low servant proposed to escape at once bv leaping from a window, which they could do from the second story, without much danger. Harry refused, and said he must go up stairs and awaken the students who would otherwise, perish'. His fellow ser | vant saved himself, and Harry undertook i fho heroic task the vonng men. It would seem that he must have rushed up the burning stair-case through the very flames. By his shrieks and screams and yells of agony he startled the sleepers from what would otherwise have been, to 6ome, at least, the sleep of death; and then ran torn window and sprang to the ground, eall ing most piteously on his master —for the poor fellow had burnt offhim every thread ofhis clothing and erven his skin from his head to his feet. In this pitiable condition he lived in the greatest conceivable agony for about twelve hours, when death happi ly ended his sufferings and introduced him into the presence ofhis Savionr—for Har ry was a Christian, and had given most sat isfactory evidence of his condition as such for many months. Such a deafii deserves to be commemo rated, and we hope that Harry’s name will not only be preserved in the memory of admiring and gratefulliearts dnd engraved upon the monument proposed, but that it with the names of those four who were in strumental in rescuing young Talbert, whom I mentioned in my last, be inscribed upon a block of marble and built, into the wall of the new edifice, which the}* are about to erect, in the place of that which was so sud denly destroyed RE-BUILDING Oy HOWARD COLLEGE. Terrible as was the blow which laid the Howard in ruins, it may, in the end, prove to have been a blessing to the institution. It will rise ugain like the Phoenix from its ashes with a more vigorous life. It is but a few weeks since it was burnt, and al ready, at the meeting of the t onvention, over twenty-five thousand dollars were re ported as having been contributed to re build it; and a plan is on foot to secure for it an ample endowment. The Alabama Baptists love their College. They regard it as a great nursery for good men, where they are trained for high employments and widely extended usefulness. Some of its Alumni are already among the most efficient ministers of Jesus Christ in their State. The brethren re fc not disheartened* on the contrary their hopes seem to be higher, their resolutions stronger, and their purses often tcide e, for the Howard than ever before. Another and more eligible lot has been secured. The plan of a Iniild fug on a much larger scale and much more conveniently arranged, has been adopted and probably by this time the walls are going up. Next session they will have airangements every way superior what they have ever had to.accommodate the stu dents and facilitate their studies. In the meantime the exercises have not been dis continued, but the classes recite in the church and other places, with the same regularity as before the fire. There are twelve students of Theology under the special Supervision and instruc-* tion of President T*lbird. We hope in another year this number may be doubled. An educated ministry rs now’ the great'ery of our churches—such a ministry will be generously sustained by the churches—but le.t it be remembered that an educated ministry must first jbe supplied from tho churches. The churches inpst educate | own menders. We want men, born and raised here in our midsf, whom we I know and who know ns—but we want ViHiiher 4.