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J. F. DAGG, Editor.
VOL nXIV.-Aew Series, VoL 23.
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From the Christian Repository.
The Old Landmark Discovered.
A REVIEW OF ‘‘AN OLD LANDMARK RK-SKT.”
A small tract witli this title, from th£ pen of Bro.
J. M.J’emlleion, is before us. We glanced cur
sorily over the argument of this tract, as it ap
peared originally in the “Tennessee Baptist.” We
have perused it more attentively in its stereotyped
form. In opening his argument, brother P. very
justly perhaps, and very adroitly,.appeals to a
sense of the paramount obligations of truth. Such ,
an appeal misapplied, may often awaken
spirit for a mere human dogma. Devotees of su
peratition make sacrifices for what they deem the
paramount claims faith. While a martyr
testimony for the is to be admired, needless
penances and sacrifices pf charity or fellowship with
our fellow-men, are ta%e pitied.
We confess, also, to a great and growing aver
sion to what appears to us ill-timed or unnecessary
controversy. YVe do not sympathize with those
.whose nerves are shocked by all theological dis
cussions. They are necessary for the defense ?md
propagation of the truth. And, in the sentiment
of Robert Hall—though attended by present incon
veninces, they may be crowned with great, though
more remote advantages. We think, however,
we have comparatively too long been engaged in
theological warfare, and that it is time to turn our
attention more to the arts of Christian peace* re
vivals, church extension and missionary work:—
Hence we deplore the initiation of anew contro-.
versy, which may possibly divert our churches
from their great spin uni work, and diaffecta them
towards the great evangelical unions of our coun
try. We do not believe our denomination will
progress in religious power and usefulness in pro
portion to the increase of its issues and contro
versies with other sects. While some may be
won by partizan appeals, others are repelled by
them. If “we fill the public mind with the wheat
of truth, we preclude the chaff of error. We have
more confidence tn the progress of our denomina
tion by the abounding f piety and good works,
with a limited amount of controversy, than in the
abounding of controversy, with limited devotion
aud missionary zeal. We speak upon general prin
ciples, and the spirit we think too much pervading
some of our denominational papers, and not of the
author of the tract under discussion. We admire
him as much in his practical piety, as in his abili
ty as a defender of our faith.
It is as bad policy to widen unnecessarily the
disaffection between religious denominations, while
uniting in a grand crusade against Paganism, Mo
hammedanism, Romanism, traditional Judaism,and
Infidelity in ail its phases, as it would be to ap
pear to the national antipathies and jealousies of
tue allied armies while encamped against Serasto
pol, and battling together against the menacing
despotism of Russia. There is no particular dan
ger of their losing their nationality, their fealty to
their respective governments, or even exchanging
or laying aside their peculiar discipline or uniform.
So co-operations with Christian uien in the work
of evangelizing the world, will not deprive u& of
any of our scriptural peculiarities. Many men are
better partizan* than Christians, and we tear such
a discussion may develop sectarian zeal far more
than, true piety.
Partyism is a cheap pie*y, and many would be
glad to atone for the defects of Christian charac
ter, by fulness of partizan zeal.
Behold the work of church extension to be ac
complished in our borders—of missions in new
territories and States, in Africa, and the East.—
We can but believe more missionary spirit and
work will sooner purify our churches, remove the
errors of IVlobaptists, and convert Use world.—
This new dogma, if received, will not only renew
the spirit of controversy, but give to it far more of
bitterness and proscription.
An argument which, if received, is to precipi
tate such controversies, summon our churches to
such an attitude of proscription, and discontinue
the courtesies which have sweetened the inter
course of Christians of different denominations,
should not rest upon mere assumptions, popular
fallacies, or even strong probabilities. Charity
should, at least, like an arraigned criminal, always
have the advantage of a doubt. It requires strong
er evidence of evil intention in my neighbor to jus.
tify me in refusing ail civilities and denouncing
him as a dishonest man, than to justify me in les
sening my intimacies, and being wary in my inter
course. There should be no fallacies, no flaws,
no mere assumptions, in an argument tending
weaken or circumscribe the sphere of charity-—the
greatest of Christian virtues. Bro. P,’ argument
tTljc Christian JnDel
appears to us not strong enough to maintain his
unchurching degma. The base is not firm enough _
t© support such a lofty and menacing structure of
“high-churchtsm.” There appear to us to be too
great though popular fallacies at the foundation of
it, by the removal of either one of which his argu
ment falls, and his unchurching dogma with it.
In the first place, he confounds the essence with
the form of the church. In its scriptural and pri
mary distinction, a church is an assembly of be
lievers, called out from the world. As believers,
they are naturally combined under some form of
discipline and ordinances. . But the regimen or
disci pHne does not. enter into the essence of the
church. Without these they may be saved, or be
long to the church universal. In our conception
of the whole body of the redeemed, on earth and
in heaven, a* a spiritual body, externalities do not
necessarily enter. Js<> the companies of redeemed
people, meeting in different parts of the world for
the worship of Christ, comprise the essential fea
ture of the Christian church; though not, per
haps, its proper organization, regimen and disci
pline. Their redemption by the blood of Christ;
their birth by the- Holy Spirit; their adoption of
the Bible as their law ; their life of faith ; their
works of charity *, their possession of the spit it of
Christ ; distinguish them as Christians, and an as
sembly of them as a congregation or church of
Christians, or a Christian church. It has been on
ly on this ground that Baptist* have ever regarded
pedohaptist communities adiuretics; because they
regarded them as congregations or permanent as
semblies of Christians. They have never yielded
to the fallacy of Dr. Griffin, quoted so confidently
by brother Pendleton. Dr. Griffin wished to infer
lawful baptism from con ceiled ecclesiastical char
acter. But Baptists, while conceding the latter,
have always denied the former. They are church
es, but churches imperfectly organized and disci
plined; churches in partial error and disobedience;
churches irregular and unscriptural in their ordi
nances and polity. To illustrate our idea: con
ceive of a perfect tree, with distributed roots,
straight trunk,symmetrical top, branches and my
riad twigs in their season, crowned with foliage,
blossoms, and fruit. But suppose in the perver
sion of nature the roots have.ail lieen crowded by
a rock on one side of the base, the trunk is prone
to ihe ground, or gnarled, or deformed ; or. from
want of depth or richness of soil or moisture, its
foliage is thin and pale, and its fruit is scanty and
ackly; or even if it should bear for a period no
fruit, or even put forth no leaves, has it ceased to
I be a tree ? Do these imperfections or perversions
destroy its nature? Or do the essential features
of the tree remain ; and may it still be denomina
ted a tree, though nu imperfect, or deformed, or
unfruitful one ? Or conceive the essential attri
butes of perfect m inhood, in physical, mental nnd
moral endowments ahd organizations: How noble,
how exalted, the being! He is properly set over
the inferior works of God. Put suppose the per
version of that erect form, the obscuration of that
noble intellect, the misdirection of those pure af
fections. and does he cease to be a man ? Must
we embrace civilization, fashionable attire, and
professional accomplishments, which are so suita
ble to man’s being, in an abstract conception of
manhood ? These are important circumstances,
but they belong to the development, rather than
to the nature of man—to his regimen, rather than
tp his essential faculties.
So we may conceive of a perfectly developed,
Organized, or disciplined church of Christ. But
does the want of its circumstances of outward or
der, organization, or observance, destroy its essen
tial nature ? Does an assembly of believers, saved
by ‘grace, washed in the blood of Christ, and living
and walking in his spirit, cease to be a company
of believers—a congregation of Christians—a
church of Christ, because not under proper regi
men—irregular in their practice, and wanting
some things to make them a regular or perfect
church ?
If any one will tell us in default.of how many
of the properties, conditions, embellishrfler.ts of a
perfeet tree, a tree ceases to be a tree ; or in de
fault of how many of the circumstances and ac
complish menu of a perfect manhood, a man ceases
to be a man, thdn we may be able to tell in default
of how many of the .graces, and how much of the
organization and Older of a perfect or regular
church of Christ, a community of believers ceases
to be a church of Christ. If Dr. Griffin and broth
er Pendleton had substituted regular Ckurck , or a
leripturally ordered church\ for a church of Christ,
they might not have been betrayed into an error
so uncharitable and prescriptive. While we insist
upon order and form in the church, we must not
confound them w-ith the essence of the church.—
We recognize pedobaptist baptist communities
only in their essential teligious character, as Chris
tian churches,, while we continue to bear witness
against their unscriptural order and ordinances.
It is not merely a want of outward order which
invalidates the claim to be a perfect church ; want
of faith, zeal, and pure discipline does much more.
Suppose a pedobaptist society of long standing,
distinguished for soundness in the faith, eminent
piety, and practical benevolence, engaged in eveiy
good work—in missions at home ami abroad—all
take knowledge of them that they have been with
Jesus; by them the Sabbath is preserved, and
religion fostered in a community otherwise left to
the casual direction of irreligion and vice. In the
same region of country is a community of profess i
ed disciples, scripturally organized. Its polity and
ordinances are regular, and a.fojknul to the letter
of the word. But they are r ” JHfctperance They
recognize no obligation to p 4 gospel to the
unconverted. Temperance stjl'ctietLdisdosea.con
spiracy to iimite church at*} and
Foreign Missioris'^eATr-tinlyffy to steady
the ark of God in its the world—
or to take God’s work out of They
diffuse but little of the sp of Christ
around them. Now which of/d* 6 *® communities,
upon common sense and acript|l| ra ! grounds, is bet
ter entitled to the name andVcraht of being a
church of Christ? They are Iboth imperfect or
irregular. But moral deficietN e * ,rmst farther
to invalidate a claim to be •I'rist’s church than
ceremonial. If nqt, we mustw’ t 0 the stupen
dous fallacy of papacy—of esdffi n £ organism above
practical religion. While ,r)!I1 ‘ KT|, i cum
min let us not nesdect the weighter mat- !
ters of thejtfzr or< ler nre hnpnr
izJn perfect |techmcally^*m>-
l-'ral church ; but not so iniporPn “ a ’ ll, ‘ C,M,r ’
itv, and good works. We shf IT “°. t . co L n .
th. cbatMte, Md -orb of “ “'•
Penfield, Georgia, Thursday, larch 1, 1855.
form. That is important; but devotion,
skill, faithfulness, are far more so. And an honest
mistake in the color or style of his uniform, or of
the import of an order, does not forfeit his place
and the distinction of his service in the army.—
Whole regiments have through whole campaigns
misapprehended a line of orders, and more or less
bad consequences have followed, but they still be
long to the army. Those companies of believers
which achieve most in the spiritual war, and ob
serve most accurately the discipline of the com
mander, are the best regiments or companies of
soldiers, or churches. When an army or regi
ment, or company ceases to be an army,
or company, from unintentional oversight, or neg
lect of a command, or from not wearing their uni
form, though having the zeal and courage, and do
ing the service and enduring the hardships of sol
diers, then may disobedient Christians, or compa
nies of Christians, be disowned as churches of
Christ. It is true soldiers will be distinguished
from other classes of citizens by some uniform and
acts of real or intended obedience to the acknowl
edged commander. Hut these proceed from the
character and relations of the soldier, instead of
themselves constituting him such. lie could he
a good soldier in honest misapprehension of the
uniform or orders of the army. Though we look
for “visible” armies, only with uniforms and regu
lar discipline, these do not constitute them armies,
and their misapprehension may not in all cases
vitiate their courage or achievements on the bat
tle field.
So, though we look for visible churches only
where there is baptism, or intended baptism, it is
not because these constitute them churches, hut
proceed from the faith, pious experience, and de
l-ire of obedience, which constitute them individie
ally believers, and collectively churches,
ly enough, therefore, we find no visible khurchrfjsl
without ordinances, and no regular v sibl cliimJß.
es without regular ordinances. But a general
consequent must not be mistaken for an essential
constituent. We might as well urge that eiothes,
and forms of civilization and professions are ess<oiy
tial to the idea, the nature, or abstract conception;
of man, because we no where find men withota
these visible distinctions. When the distinction
of manhood can be merged in external circular
stances of attire, customs, and professions, theiße
mav confound the idea of the c 1
dinances. I
If tins view be not correct, the Christian chujH
is not the highest and purest society on earth
cause here is a society to which the name chuH
is denied, yf greater purity and usefulness
another which the name is awarded.
the fragrance and beauty and color of tliewflHrajfc*
the name dog’s tail, or, may be,
dyg’s-tail grass, but upon
r lfh is called a rose.
guage appear to us superficial, deceptive, aflH
ly to lead to errors of judgment PiUPMH£Hb£ :
nesa of practice. If more religious an<l^H|||||i
communities may be proscribed as
churches of Christ, and less devoted and pioSnSE
sembiies may be exalted to that distinction ■HB
ceases to be valuable. And other
Christians may be more important and useful tlniV
Christian churches. The truth seems to be, the.?P
that all Christian communities are Christian churehf
ei; but more or less perfectly organized and disf
ciplined. While all irregularities lower the claims
of Christian churches, moral deficiencies do fair
more than ceremonial to invalidate their claims yj
be called the churches of Christ.
In the superficial distinction of the high-church
dogma, a piece of gold of half, a third, or a fourth
of the weight of a dollar, with the proper stamp of
an authorized coin, or some base amalgam cf full
size, and with the stamp of the Republic upon it.
should be held of far more value than a piece of
goid as heavy as a dollar, but without the proper
stamp, or with some defect in its figures or letters.
‘What constitutes a church ?
Not Roman basilic or Gothic pile,
With fretted roof, tall spire, and long-drawn aisle,
These only mock the search ;
Fantastic sepulchres, where all is said—
Seek not the living Church among the dead.
“What is a Church in deed ?
Not tripled hierarchy or throned priest.,
The stolen trappings of the Romish beast.
Altar, or well-sung creed,
Rites magical to save, to sanctify,
Nor aught that lulls the ear or lures the eve.
“A band of faithful men,
Met for God’s worship in an upper room,
Or canopied by midnight’s starry dome,
On hill-side, or lone erlen.
To hear the counsels of His holy word,
Pledged to each other and their common Lord A
“These, few’ as they may be,
Compose a church, such as, in prestine age,
Defied the tyrant’s zeal, the bigot’s rage—
For where but two or three
Whatever place in faith’s communion meet.
There with Christ’s presence is a chinch complete.” !
HIRELING PREACHERS.
. The following anecdote, which we have ;
received as*authentic from the lips of a-j
clergyman of great distinction, sets forth ;
in a very pleasant way the folly of re- I
preaching preachers as hirelings because
they receive temporal support from their
congregations.
At theineeting of a presbytery in an !
Eastern'State, it fell to the lot of one of the j
ministers to be quartered with a man be- |
longing to a denomination which does not ;
allow of salaried preachers. lie was soon j
accosted by It is host as followers :
“What is thy name, friend ; I mean the
name thy parents gave thee ?”
“John.” . j
“Has thee any objection that I should !
call thee by that name?”
“Certainly not; my mother always calls j
me John.” - *
>‘Well, John, I understand, thee belongs I
to tiie class of hireling preachers.”
“Yon are greatly mistaken, sir; I .do
not belong*to that class.”
mean, thee is one of those’preachers ■
wfco for preaching.”
THE TRUTH IN LOVE.
“No, sir, I receive nothing for preach
ing to my’ people.”
“How then,” said the interrogator, evi
dently surprised and disconcerted, “does
thee manage to live ?”
“Why, I work for my people six days,
and then I preach for them on Sundays for
nothing.”
The dialogue ended here, since it was
too manifest to be denied that if a man
worked for a people six days of the week
he wits fairly entitled to a living.
DARKNESS BEFORE THE DAWN.
The greatest triumphs ot the t hurph
have been preceded by her darkest peri
ods. Behind the dark cloti i which shuts
from view the rising light of the early
dawm, the full-orbed sun is perhaps alrea
dy risen. The waning of an old and decay
ing order of things, and the convulsions
in< idt-nf to the introduction aud establish
ment of anew dispensation, give to the
aineial aspect of affairs the appearance of
dissolution. It is fearful to see the foun
tains of the great deep breaking up—migh
ty floods rolling over the earth—the sojid
ground givjng-way, and no new earth on
which to place the sole of your foot. It
was a dark hour to Noah, when, looking
abroad over the wide expanse of waters, he
saw the last summit of the receeding earth
sinking deeper and deeper into a watery
grave. But soon anew world arose—wash
ed, regenerated, and made a titter abode
for tilie Church of the living God.
And that was the darkest night of all
when the body of Him, who was the bright
and morning star, was entombed in the
solid marble of the “new sepulchre” No
, wonder the heavens gathered blackness.—
In yonder sepulchre was entombed the
hope of the world. The Star of Bethlehem,
which had already cast its light over the
thick darkness ofJluur&tkms. sunk beneath
bow of promise gave
signs that ere long it should rise again in
redoubled splendor. The hopes of waiting
saints are in a moment prostrated. Many
had twisted that it had been He who shoukl
have redeemed Israel j but as the morning
of the third day approached, and all was
jillent about the sepulchre—except as the
stern sentinel of the Roman cohort, half
yjetennined by martial pride, half trernb
|p-4i(rfJh'ferfrfuk looking-after^those*thi ngs*
||g|l may come to pass, keeps his nightly
liHo P ru udly walks his rounds about
spot where lay, bound in the icy chains
the Hope of a hopeless world—
Irw must the last ray of hope have been
‘iytingnished ! The overpowering despon
dency of that hour found a fit response in
the bursting grief of those female disciples
who came early to t!\e sepulchre ; “ They
have taken away., i/ur Lord , and ice know
not where they ’have laid him.
Never was there a darker hour. Hope
lay dead, encased in a solid marble. Death
had gotten the victory—the grave had the
prey—sin triumphed, and hell kept jubi
lee. Bntfhush ! The earth quakes—the
rocks rend—the priests come rushing from
the temple and proclaim that the veil is
rent asunder—the pallid inhabitants of the
grave walk among the abodes of men.
One company of women, and then anoth
er, and then one of the disciples, whose
joy in the tidings he brings bears him
apace before his brethren, come running
back to the Holy City early on the morn
ing of the first day of the week, and what
strange tidings they bring! They sa\-
but who, at this juncture of fell despon
dency, can believe it ? — they say, “The
Lord is risen indeed /” The gloomy night ’
is passed. The morning of the resurrec
tion lias come. The entombed hopes of hie
followers now burst forth into a glorious
reality. In the hopeless tomb was the
germ of hope for a ruined world. On Cal
vary, in the very ignominy and agony of
the cross, was done away an old orderl>f
tilings, and- introduced another, which
should bring life and immortality to light.
It.was the darkness, the gloom, th c, death
of that dismal period, which introduced the
most illustrious period the Church has ever
witnessed. They not only preceded , but
were the very authors of it. The scenes
on Calvary was the great conflict. It was
the hour and power of darkness. When
the Great Head of the Church was ah’Aut
to introduce anew and more glorious era
of his grace, all the powers of the pit were
roused to smother the rising glory.
[ Christian In tdligence > \
ANSWERING OUITOWN PRAYERS.
We have the most entire faith in prayer,
and in the Divine influence on our hearts
through prayer. Without it the truespir-.
it of devotion, of love to God and love to
man, will inevitably die out. But sincere
prayer must be the act, not merely of the
tongue, but of the whole man, heart, soul,
voice and hand. The mind must compre
hend what it is that we are praying for,
the whole soul must be moved to join in
the petition, and after the formal act of
prayer is over, we must be ready, with
voice and hand to do all that we can to ac
complish that for which we have prayed.
We must strive, when we can, to. answer
our prayers. He who prays for the cause
of education, or for the extension of Christs
kingdom, or the establishment of peace
upon the earth, and yet does nothing to
advance the object of his prayers, cannot
pray in spirit and in truth. His devotion
is false and hollow in the sight of God.—
bet ue remember this, and make our prayers
J effectual, by the conformity of our lives to
j them. A great deal of true theology is
[ taught in the following anecdote, which
! we commend to oar readers.
[Christian Register.
I “In the of B , lived a poor,
i but industrious man, depending for sup
port on his labor. His wife fell sick and
not being able to hire a nurse, he was
obliged to confine himself to the sick bed
and family. His means of support being
thus cutoff, he soon found himself in need.
Having a wealthy neighbor near, be de
termined to go and ask hint for two bush
els of wheat,..with a promise to pay as soon
as bis wife became so much better that
ho could leave her and return to his work.
Accordingly, he took his bag, went to bis
neighbor’s and arrived while the family
were'at morning prayer. The prayer con
cluded, tlie-poorman stepped in and made
known his business, promising to pay with
tlie avails of his first labor. The farmer
was wery sorry he could not accommodate
j him, but lit-, fold promised to loan a large
i sum of had depended upon his
j wheat to make it out, but he presumed
\ neighbor would let hint have it.
j “With a tearful eve and a sad heart, the
poor man turned away. As soon as he left
the house, the farmer’s little son stepped
up and said ;
“Father, did yon not pray that God
would clothe the naked, feed the hungry,
relieve the distressed, and comfort the
mourners ?”
“Yes ; Why ?”
“Because, father, if I had your wheat, I
would answer your prayer.
THE YOUNG INFIDEL.
The fillowing sad aecouut of a j’oung
man who for a time attended the ministry
of the Rev. Baptist Noel, of London, illus
trates the fearful consequences of breaking
a wav frm the influence of the gospel :
The young man was the son of pious pa
rents. and for several years was regular in
his attendance at the house of God. At
length he became acquainted with some
young men of infidel principles. The more
he associated with them, the less pleasant
he found it to listen to the gospel. Ere
long he absented himself wholly from the
sanctuary. He then began to indulge in
| the pleasures of sin, and went to such
in criminal indulgence, that he
soon laid the foundation of a fatal illness.
Three months after he had abandoned the
house of God he was on the verge of the
grave. Mr. Noel was then called to visit
him. The dying youth refused to con verse
with.-the man of God; but covered his
head with the bed-clothes. After several
vain attempts to enter into conversation
with him about that Being before whom
he was soon tostan i in judgment, Mr. Noel
offered a prayer for him, aud was about to
quit the apartment. Just as bis hand was
upon the latch of the door, the young man
made an effort to sit up in the bed. and
asked Mr. N. to stay a minute. Mr. N. re
turned to the bedside. The sufferer’s
strength was well niglt exhausted. He
whispered in ‘the ear of Mr. N. the appal
ling words “Tm lost /” He sunk down in
the bed, drew the clothes over his head
and never spoke again.
Let the young beware how they listen
to those who would Jead them away from
the house of God to the haunts of sin.—
Many have been thus led, and have been
constrained to lift up the despairing cry,
“I am lost forever.”
PERSONAL INFLUENCE.
The ltev. Dr. Boardman, in illustrating
the power of personal influence, from the
text, “He brought him to Jesus,” intro
duced the following striking and appropri
ate incident: ‘
“On the Bth of February, 1850, there
died in Edinbugh a venerable Baptist pas
tor, Mr. James Alexander Haldane, in his
48th 3 7 ear. In his early life he command
ed the man-of-war Melville Castle. While
engaged in an action one day, the decks of
his ship wvre cleared by the broadside of
the enemy. Captain Haldane ordered a
fresh set of hands to be ‘piped up,’ to take
the place of the slain. The men, on see
ing the mangled bodies of their comrades
scattered over the deck, instinctively drew
back; at which their commander poured
forth a volley’of oaths, and wished them
all in hell. One of the seamen, who had
been religiously educated, shortly after
wards said to the Captain, in a respectful
and serious manner, “If God had heard
your prayer just now, where should we
have been?” The engagement termina
ted; but it greater victory had been achieved
over Captain Haldane than by him. The
old sailor’s words were winged by Him
who never smites in vain; and from that
day the gallant and reckless commander
became a changed man. He lived to preach
the gospel for fifty-four years. Among
the early fruits of his ministry was the
conversion of his brother Robert, now well *
known as an able, learned, and pious com
mentator. Robert went to Geneva; and
during bis sojourn there of several months,
(about 1814,) be labored with unwearied
assiduity to reclaim the pastors and theo
logical students, whom he met with, from
their rationalistic errors, to indoctrinate
them in the evangelical faith, and to lead
them to seek a personal inteiest in the Sa
viour. The blessing of God was with him.
A considerable number of young men be
came hopefully pious; and among those in
whose conversion be bad a main agency,
J. T. BLAIN, Printer.
were Frederick Monod, now one of thepil
lars of the evangelical church in France;
Felix Nefi, the devoted young pastor of
the High Alps, whose memory is held sa
cred in both hemispheres; and Merle D’Atr
bigne, the eminent historian of the Re
formation. To pronounce these names is
to show how impossible it must be for any
created mind to gather up the results of
that single conversion on board the Mel
ville Castle. And that conversion was
brought about through a single sentence ad
dressed by a sailor to his commander, firm
ly but courteously reproving him for bis
profanity!
This case, it is conceded, is a strong one.
But is it not instructive? Doeslt not shame
our remissness in the great duty of bring
ing men to Christ? Does it not hold out
the amplest encouragement t<> fidelity mid
zeal in this most important work ? “They
that turn many to righteosness shall shine
as the stars for ever and ever.” How
glorious a crown, then, will adorn the
brow of that poor seaman who maintained
his loyalty to Christ at the hazard ofoffend
ing his commander, and whose faithfulness
has already told witli an efficacy so pow
erful and so auspicious upon the church
and the world.”
CHRIST OUR REFUGE.
A man standing near the north pole and
feeling a few warm rays of the sun strag
gling in upon him, would naturally thiilk
that it would be too good to go near their
source. He might in fact conclude, as he
feels the power of the unrelenting frost by
which lie is surrounded, that lie could
not get too near a body emitting such ge
nial and reviving beams. But if he should
proceed southward, he would find that
body lifting itself awav from the earth ;
and as it rose in height above hie head,
pouring down rays whose concentrated
tire he could in no wise endure! The un
covered and vertical sun would reveal it
self to him as a very different thing from
the luminary he saw parallel with his ho
rizon, and whose rays only came to him
through a long journey of earthly mist and
frost.
The sinner, as he feels th*e rays of God’s
benevolence falling upon him in a world
where his eyes are dimmed with earthly
mists, and all his sensations are blunted
by the chilly fogs of his own and others’
selfishness, thinks it no difficult matter for
him to love God ; and in his short-sighted
ness imagines lie should love to be near
him. But if by any means he gets a closer
and unmixed perception of God as lie is,
he finds that his character burns upon him
with a consuming intensity which he
would hide himself in the centre of the
earth to escape. The moment God comes
near him with the blazing- beams of his
infinite justice and infinite bolin* ss, he is
in hell. Immediate contact, or near ap
proach to such a being, is of all things
that which he cannot endure.
There is one mode by which the sinner
can come near to God, so as to be a par
taker of his light and life, and yet not be
consumed. God of his infinite mercy has
provided that way. Sheltered in Jesus
Christ, the infinite Savior, he may draw
near with “confidence,” yes, with boldness,
and bo warmed into life and comfort.
With propriety, then, may Christ be
called the “Ark of Safety,” “Our Refuge,”
and our “Rock,” —sheltering ns at the
same time from the power of this world
and the great Adversary, and from the
consuming justice of the Infinite One. And
yet sinners slight that Savior, and yet
professing Christians bury themselves in
worldly schemes till they are saturated
with a worldly spirit, and become half tor
pid to the power of the Saviour’s love.
THE DIFFICULTY SETTLED.
Mr. was an intemperate man. His
pious wife had long borne with his prov
ocations. Many were the resolves which
he had made, but an old habit proved too
strong for him. The entreaties of iris grown
up children, nor the tears of his faithful
wife, made any lasting impression upon
his once tender conscience. At length
their patience was exhausted, and he was
told that in order that his unholy example
might not contaminate his family, a separ
ation must take place. Such a proposition,
though made with the best intentions, was
construed into a base plot. Under such
circumstances the writer was requested to
make them a visit. Ho called. The poor
man was present. His bloated form aud
reddened eye bore testimony against hin,
and told from whence the difficulty arose.
In turn each told his and Iter grievance.
Having listened to their story, the}’ were
told that there was but one way to. settle
the difficulty. Each appeared anxious to
know the proposed terms, which were as
follows:
That the man should then and there sign
‘the pledge to total abstinence, and that if
after one month of probation, he proved
himself worthy of confidence by having
kept the pledge, they should live togeth
er. To these terms they both agreed.—
With a trembling hand he signed the
pledge to total abstinence. Prayer was
then proposed, in order that we might seek
strength from God to enable him to keep
his promise. The poor man burst into a
flood of tears, and exclaimed, “Oh, sir, I
am too vile a wretch to pravj” Encour
; ged by declarations from the Bible, he at
leo o tb fell upon bis knees. It was a solemn
Number 9.