Newspaper Page Text
J, P. DAGG, Editor.
VOL. XMIV.~New Series, Vol. 23.
Ts 152 R. .RE PBi •
l. Thk Christian Ixdkx is a weekly publication.—
Fifty nnmbens in the year are mailed to each subscri
ber for $2 50, or $2 00 in advance.
i. Discontinuance may be ordered by the subscribers
at. the close of any year, provided all arrearage* have
W. paid: or by the Editor, at his discretion, whenever
■nore than one year’s subscription is due.
Vnv person who remits $lO in advance for five
u, : \t subscribers, may receive the paper for one year.
4. Am minister of the gospel who remits 48 in ad
vance for four new subscribers, may receive the paper
T "“‘* at\ot’S should be, aj.tr* ‘-ed.rosr 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.
3. If subscribers neglect or refuse to take their news
papers from the offices to which they are directed, they
~re held responsible until they have settled the bills
and ordered them discontinued.
4. If subscribers remove to other places without in
forming the publishers and the newspapers are sent to
the former direction, they ar* held responsible.
5. The Courts have decided that refusing to take
newspapers from the office or removing and leaving
t hem uncalled for, is prima facie evidence of intention
al fraud.
a The United States Courts have also repeatedly de
cided that a Postmaster who neglects to perforin 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.
From the Watchman and Reflector.
NICODEMUS AND THE NICODEMUSES.
There is a well know type of the human
family, scattered among all nations called
the Nicodemuses. They are everywhere
held in bad repute for their timid and cow
ardly disposition, and time-serving habits.
They are regarded as the direct descend
ants of a Jewish Rabbi, Nieodemus by
name. lie is supposed to have been the
fir# of this variety of mankind, and the
real father of the Nieodemuses of all times
and countries. That there is such a varie
■v of the human’ species cantut well be
- .'-a(ST r- T .T ‘.j
The family of whom we speak are of the
owl and bat kind. They prefer the gloom
of evening and the darkness ot night to
the broad light of day.’ Knowing that
such is their invariable characteristic, we
may infer from the history of Elijah that
they wove very numerous in his day ; and
therefore, several centuries before the time
of the distinguished Jewish Rabbi. So
perfect even then was the family typo de
veloped, viz: Their hatred of light, that
there were no seasons sufficiently dark, and
no recesses sufficiently secret to inspire
them with courage to acknowledge their
real principles. God knew that there were
seven thousand men who did not bow the
knee to Baal ; but not one of them dared go
at the hour of midnight to the lonely
mountain top, or to the eaves of the desert,
to assure the outlawed Tishbite of a hearty
sympathy with him in his attachment to
Jehovah. If the Holy Spirit had seen fit
to preserve the name of someone of these
timid thousands, it is probable that he,
rather than Nicodemns. would have been
elected the patriarch of the tribe.
There is, however, very strong ground
to suspect that Nicodemus himself is not
of the same lineage as the tribe under con
sideration. If it should be found that he
was not of their kindred, it would be im
proper, according to the present dominant
opinions, that he being an alien, should be
the head of the tribe. If our plot, will suc
ceed in unseating him, the tribe will owe
us their best thanks for casting out the for
eign usurper and opening a way for the el
evation of a native. YVe do not anticipate
that we shall draw upon us the indignation
of Nicodemus himself, for his chief-ship
has not been productive us much honor to
him.
Nicodemus has been condemned to this
unenviable notoriety, because be chose to
come to the Savior by night rather than by
day. This he did, it is said, because he
was afraid, or ashamed, or both. It would
not be very strange if he. had some such
feelings. There are not many individuals,
who, at the commencement of spiritual
life, do not have to contend with the feel
ing of fear and shame. Even those who
are naturally very courageous experience
no little fear and shame, when they begin
to seek the Savior. Dr. Baldwin, in his
own account of his religious experience,
states that he suffered exceedingly from the
fear of man.
Nicodemus had much at stake. He was
a conspicuous member of an exceedingly
haughty and conceited sect, who exalted
themselves and despised others. He was
a senator, and the religious teacher of the
people. It should be remembered that at
the time of the first interview. Jesus had
but just made his appearance as a public
teacher, and had not openly avowed him
self as the Messiah. He was youthful in
appearance, a peasant from Galilee, who
had spent all his days in hard labor among
the poor and illiterate. Nicodemus, we
may suppose, was rich, learned, somewhat
advanced in life, and having great reputa
tion as a teacher of the people. It would
be strange if it cost such a man no strug-
tllic oil) ns tan jnoex.
gle to go ab an inquirer to a young earpen
j ter from Nazareth.
• But we have no reason to suppose that :
i he was unduly exercised by ignoble feel- j
! ings. The historian nowhere intimates ,
; that he was afraid or ashamed. He tells ’
i us that he came, by night, but assigns no ,
: reasons why he selected that time. Du- ,
j ring that first interview, which appears to ;
; have been conducted in a very free and j
j confidential manner, the Savior gave hint
Ino hint that he was a time-serving man.— ;
’ ‘ —-*—•,*** frlu. i W Uluuuii haO 1
chosen an nnproper hour. The reverse <>t
| this ia implied. With such perfect frank- |
j ness did the Savior make known to bis in- j
j quirer who and what he himself was, aud I
j for what purpose- he come into this j
’ world. Occasionally, indeed, the humble j
j inquirer was exchanged for the proud Phar- ;
j isee, writhing and curling his scornful lip, j
j as the youthful teacher insisted on the uni I
I vereal necessity of the* new birth, and he j
j was rebuked account of his self-conceit, j
! ignorance, and earthly-mindedness. But j
! of his timidity and shame not a word is j
I said. The Savior did not ask him to do •
j anything which wouid test him in these i
| particulars. It may be said that the argil- j
j ment from the silence of the historian and !
jof the Redeemer is not of much weight.— j
i Bnt surely it is of some weight against noth- j
; ing; and the rich fullness of the Savior’s j
I discourse gives the impression that he was i
| pleased with the interview. j
j It is not right to charge any man with
j dishonorable motives, when it is very pos-
S sible, and even probable, that he may have
! been actuated by high considerations. —
When an inquiry meeting has been ap
pointed. and mativ attend, and when such
a meeting is held in the evening, it is gen
erally regarded as speaking well of the
earnestness and courage of an idividual, to
say that he has attended. But suppose
that no such thing as an inquiry meeting
had cut been known, or heard of in the
neighborhood, and that the missionary,
who had come to pay the region a flying i
visit, had invited no one to visit himt his j
lodgings, would it not, in such circuuistan- j
ces, be a very strong indication of earnest- I
ness and courage, for .one to go ami make
himself known |< tnc stranger, and then
immediate • •<'i>?x the subjeel of his
•*- ■ •
. I ;* V-vv-nIPR 7 grawWf to** oVunt^p?- 1
NicouSutos wfcs, .entirely private; that be
came stealthily through the deserted
streets about the midnight hour, or about
two in the morning, ami tapped timidly on
our Savior’s bod-room window, and that no
one was present to witness the interview,
or to overhear the conversation. But all
this is gratuitous. There is no reason tp
suppose that the visit, though in the night’
was at an unseasonable hour, or that it
was private. It might be in the early part
of the evening, and that Jesus, at the time,
might have his disciples around him, and
some strangers might be present also.
But if the Savior were wholly alone at
the time, ir is not. necessary to suppose un
worthy motives on the part of Nicodemus.
It is perfectly natural that Nicodemus
should have preferred to be alone wtih the
Savior. Does not every burdened sinner
prefer to be alone with him now, in order
to pour out his heart before him, and that
not because he is afraid or ashamed, but
because the object in view can be better ac
complished when a third party is not pres
ent ‘ It: is altogether probable that the Sa
vior was making a very deep impression
on the populace, of his miracles, and his
very powerful and winning eloquence, and
that he was greatly thronged all the day
time. While so large and so eager a crowd
might be constantly present, Nicodemns
might, be of too noble and refined feelings
to thrust back the common people in order
to advance his own interest and pleasure.
It might be far more congenial to his feel
ings to avail himself of such a season as
the Savior was most at leisure.
It is perfectly natural to suppose also
that Nicodemus himself might through
n r>
the whole day be busily occupied with his
official duties, lie was an honorable Sen
ator, and stood very’ high as a religions
teacher, and Jerusalem at the season of the
Passover was crowded with worshipers. At
such a time the principal members of the
Sanhedrim must have much to do.
1 have seen a statement that there was
a tradition among the Jews, that the night
was the most fitting time for studying the
things of God. If such be a fact, it is of
itself sufficient to account for the time se
lected for the interview, without the addi
tion of any other hypothesis. The Phari
sees are known to have been devotedly at
tached to traditions.
John mentions Nicodemus twice after
this; but in connection with those instan
ces he gives us no hint that he regarded
him as particularly deficient in moral cour
age,—indeed, he conveys the very opposite
impression. In the seventh chapter we are
informed that many of the people believed
on Jesus. So strong wrus the impression
he was evidently making, that the chief
men were alarmed. The Pharisees and
chief priests plotted against him, and sent
officers to take him. These officers, how
ever, after listening awhile to his discourse,
did not dare arrest’him. On their return,
they stated in their own vindication that
“never own spake like this man.” The
fact that their own servants were infected
with the growing esteem of the young Gal
ilean peasant, threw the Sanhedrim into a
Peufield, Georgia, Tlmrsun. August 9, 1855.
rage. Tht; members poured forth the most
contemptuous language respecting him,
and all who were inclined to regard him as
the Messiah. “ Have any of the rulers,”
they asked, “or of the Pharisees, believed
on him ?” It was at this exciting crisis
•that the man who has been condemned in
to an unenviable notoriety on account of his
excessive timidity, stood up alone against
the enraged Council. Let the scene be
imagined ; let the violence of the haughty
and furious Pharisees, foiled in their at
w.*v r t<i ;r rest Jesus, be distinctly remem
bered. Li&feu to tlvelr confeaeO
voices, venting their denunciations against
him, and the populace whom he was draw
ing after him. Was this the timelcJr a fear--
ful and time-serving disciple to raise his
voice above the confused clamor in defense
of Jesus? “Doth our law,” inquired he,
“ judge any man before it hear him and
know what he doeth ?” The effect of this
inquiry, as he must have anticipated, was
tremendous. The members turned fiercely
on their colleague, and stigmatized him as
a Galilean. Then the Council broke up in
the utmost confusion.
Nicodemnb appears again in connection
with the burial of Jesus. He manifested
on that occasion his tender and strong at
tachment to the Savior, who, at this time,
was not very pouplar. There were not
then many among the common people ex
pressing their convictions that he might be
the Messiah, or were ready to hail him as
their king. The tide had now set in the
opposite direction. Those who had been
ready to shout “ Hosanna to the Son of
David,” were now prepared to do the bid
ding of his enemies and murderers, and
had"recently cried out “Crucify him.” It
was after Jesus had endured the ignominy
of the cross, when the faith of his constant
followers was expiring, that Nieodemus
came forward and brought a mixture of
; myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds
weight. Joseph, of Arimathea, who ac
companied him on this occasion, is said to
have concealed previous to that time, his
attachment to Jesus, because he feared the
Jews. The very circumstance that the
same thing is not said of Nieodemus,
when it would have been so natural to say
it, is an indication that he had not partic
ipated it) the feelings of his companion. -
Neither %L ,J was.afraid at this time. --
- . .• •
such a ;*amT as'T>enatm i rgPeal
man. Nieodemus thus gave evidence th-vT
he did not sympathize with his colleagues,
or with the fickle multitude. Like an af
j fectionate friend, a bereaved mourner, his
i love attended Jesus to the tomb. Jesus
; plainly told him at the first interview that
;he should be put to death. And now that
; he was dead, the faith aud hope of the
I-counsellor did not falter. As the burial
! wa§* not a secret transaction, he publicly
professed his faith in the crucified One. —
In view of all these circumstances, we ask,
Is it kind, is it just to stigmatize Nicode
roue as a man notorious for his cowardice ?
What has he done worthy of the infamy
that has always been attached to his name?
PLEA FOR THE SABBATH.
Professors erf religion , members of the
! eh arch, to whatever denomination you be
j long —the Lord of the Sabbath expects
I much from you. You have publicly sworn
allegiance to Him, and he requires you to
redeem your solemn pledge by rallying
round the sacred institution. Especially
does he require the most unequivocal proofs
of loyalty in your personal obedience to
•Jhe law of the Sabbath. If you break the
law, how can it be expected that others will
respect it % If you engage in any secular
j business whatever, if you are seen in sta
; ges, and steam-boats, and canal packets, or
j travelling for business of pleasure in your
| own private conveyances on the Lord’s
day, you not only sin against your own
i souls, but lend the whole weight of your
example to embolden others in transgres
sion. Dare you advance in a course like
this ? What! see you not the angel of the
Lord standing in the way with a drawn
swori! in his hand to oppose you ? Neu
tral ground you cannot take; for if you are
not openly for the Sabbath, you are virtu
ally against it. Come up then, at once, to
the help of the Lord, grasping the “ wea
pons of your Christian warfare, which are
! not carnal, but mighty, through God, to
i the pulling down of strong holds.”
Friends and teachers of Sabbath-schools
i — forget not to remind your confiding pu
; pils of the sacred ness of the day on which
I you meet them. Enrich their minds with
’ all those passages of Scripture which en
; join the sanctification of the Sabbath.
j Teach them the nature and design of the
! institution, and make it a leading object to
I imprint its high and holy claims indelibly
; upon their hearts and consciences. They
; will bless you for it as long as they live
; the church will pour her grateful benedie
j tions upon your heads, and furure genera -
tions will rise up and call you blessed.
1 Parents of young and rising fam Hies—
consider, we beseech you, what an amaz
ing influence your example and precepts
will have upon children, and through them,
upon the cause of religion and the general
posperity of the nation. Do you wish to
see your sons and daughters virtuous and
happy ? teach them to “ keep God’s Sab
baths, aud to reverence his sanctuary.”—
Would you employ the most effectual means
to establish your authority over them, aud
to secure their future reverence for your
THE TRUTH Its LCfS*
gray Lairs? teach them to “ re mem hay the
Sabbt-ih-d#iy, to keejf it liolv.” Would
you train them up for distinguished use
fulness, in any station whatever ? teach
them same uivine Wesson.—
And Wdnld'spoiTensure their final salvation,
yon c iav too much stress upon #he
sancrifi ation of the Sabbath. In short,
this is the first thing, the second thing, and
the mfrel thing, in a well-conducted Christ
ian education. • ♦
and similar motives cannot
“■ ‘ ■ l * ■ il - ,111 - l!! vi
keeping of then morals and tfrelr
happmess to the wayward propensities of
mnsanJlifieo’ nature; if yon covet from
them disobedience, neglect, and abuse in
this world ; their withering testimony at
the bar of God; and their bitter execra
tions to all eternity; then let them profane
the Lord’s day as much as they please; let
them sport, and fish, and hunt,'and launch
the sailboat, and lounge in the tavern,
while"others are in the church and the Sab
bath-school. And lest they should, after
all, with the “ broad
way, r ’ encourage them by your own exam
ple. Wander about your farms, and see
that all is right with your flocks and herds,
and fences; or go into your shops aud
counting rooms: or meet your companions
in the grogshops, or on the sunny side of
the distillery. Denounce all the Sabbath
keeping boats and stages, as invasions of
tln A rights of coascieuee, and dangerous to
the liberties of the country. Such will be
likely to do the work for your families soon,
aud do it effectually. It will bring you,
Uyitftshort route, to the brink of that gulf
into which you may plunge in vain to res
cue your sons aud daughthers from des
truction.
AIS BAPTIST PRINCIPLES WORTH ANY
THING?
A strange question this, says the read
er.-to be seen in a Baptist paper. Well,
why are they worth anything ? Because
Jr the judgment of our readers, they are
peculiarly Bible principles. In other
words, while we concede to other denomi
m tions much that is good, true and valua
jaki.-Wfc claim for ourselves a more perfect
GUitormity to tbe Bible principles .and
than many of. the former claim
... Fee .qrmulaj
piHplst laittu.so tar as ltTias any efiaweter
isWc distinction from that of other evangol
ioiil denominations, is in the* fact, that it
appeals directly and exclusively t to the
word of God for its support and not to the
traditions of men or the councils of. the
“Fathers.” “Thus saith the Lorff,” is tbe
motto inscribed on the Baptist banner.
Ts then, there is any peculiar value to
our distinctive faith and organization, de
rived, as is said, directly from the source
of all truth, it follows, that they are worth
as much for others as for us. If not of any
special interest or worth, let us give them
up, aud rally around the standard of some
other Christian denomination. It costs some
effort and expense to keep up a denomina
tional establishment, which had better be
j diverted into other channels, if Baptist
; views are not worth disseminating,
i But such a suggestion will meet with
; no response among our readers—aud vet
: if our Baptist friends make no effort to
| disseminate their views and principles, for
j all. practical purposes their distinct organ
i ization might as well, and perhaps better,
ibe given up. The measure of our faith
I and love is generally’ shown by our works,
j This is conceded to be so in the matter of
| personal religion, and our pastors are con
! tinnally impressing this truth upon their
| respective flocks. But how is it in regard
j-to denominational affairs. Do they all,
| and do their churches all, feel and act as
I though it were really important that Bap
; tist principles should prevail i If so, it will
i be seen by their works.
| We bv no means intend to run a tilt
| against other denominations. We rejoice
i to see them zealous, and active in prosecn
i ting the cause of religion, and of benevo
i fence iii the various fields of enterprise
rm Ich engage their attention. W<• bid
i them “God speed” in every good word and
i work. But we do insist, that as Baptists,
j we have something more to do than mere
| ly to look on and see them taking posses
| sion of the land which, ourselves being
1 judges, ought to be our own. We repeat,
; we have no war to make upon any but the
j common enemy. But vve must, if Bap
i tists, feel it. to be of some importance that
| our distinctive principles should prevail.
I And this for two reasons —First because
j ir is due to the cause of truth as we hold
| it, and, second, because a proper self-re
; spent demands it. It is manifestly so in
j the first point, as has already been
• shown.
; But it is due to ourselves, a deuomi
; nation, to do all we can, in a legitimate
! way, and with a Christian spirit, to seek
j to have our sentiments predominate. Not
i that we would encourage anything like a
j sectarian spirit, as siak-or cater todenom
j i national pride, ourselves
to be right, we would see the right prevail,
i In some sections our denomination has
j been looked down upon , and in some com
munities to unite with a Baptist church is,
to say the least, regarded as stepping out
j side the ranks of respectability ! Where
i this is so, it needs to be taught by Baptists
j themselves, that they are as good,, as re
* fined, and as intelligent, as other Christian
! people. Wo all need to feel more anfi
i more that the Baptist denomination is a
; power in the Christian church, and as such,
! has a mighty work to accomplish. Let i(s
! respect ourselves, if wo wouid secure that
j of others. *
j A SERMON RELIGION.
1. Ilere is an anecdote which contains a
fiimt for another description of ministers
1 than that to which it originally refred ;
i When Martignae was first ugopysr -I %s
iPrime Minister to (‘diaries the
f■■ s;’< c-fli-o kbig, “ Martigu^pßl.t
t nev6r sin., mcr—t*
| who holds, above*i?ll grace
| fill symmetry of his sentences. To secure
! a well turned phrase, he would sacrifice a
i royal prerogative. A minister should not
; hold too jealously to the success of his
j prosody.” Not unlike this was the instance
i of the young man who, beginning his min
j istry at the seat of a well-known universi
j ty, and having in his congregation some
! of the faculty and mauy of the students,
; thought it necessary to appear intellectual,
i and treated the congregation, in his first
i appearance, to a nice little essay about
i something—no matter what. On his way
I home he overheard some of the students
i praising his sermon as a fine production,
| aud his ear just caught the rejoinder from
J one of the number, in terms somewhat
| profane, to ibis effect:—“ Yes, it was a
I tine sermon; but after all, it would have
! been in good taste to have had a little re
| ligion in it.”
j [The above reminds us of an incident
: related to ns by a Baptist brother wbo had
j resided for several years in Savannah, Ga.,
j and had there married a wife. On com
! ing uorth with ids bride, they spent a Sab
bath in Boston, and it was proposed that
j they should attend service at a Unitarian
! church one-half of the day, the lady never
; having heard a preacher of that denomina
| tion.—They did so, and heard a very ele
'■ gant discourse from Dr. , one of the
| most distinguished ministers of that sect,
j On their way home the lady was asked
; how’ she liked the discourse—to which she
replied that “ it seemed quite interesting,
! but she hardly knew what to make of it,
! for it was the first sermon she ever heard
1 that was not about religion !” —Ed. Anvi l
* • £
THE TEAR OF SYMPATHY,
UmF’‘-n3ft\y ■
I on the heart bruised aud brofcG, with sor
i row ! It assures the sad and wSppiug soul
I that it is not alone in a wilderness of cold
1 hearts; that there are those who can feel
I for the troubles of others; and oh ! what
is more cheering to an aching heart than
such a thought ? The desire to be loved
, is human nature in its purity. It is the
; first impulse of the opening heart—and it
’ lives and breathes in the bosom of all un
til the hour of death. A look of love, a word
! ot kindness, a tear of sympathy costs us
| nothing—why then withhold them from
| those who would prize them as blessings
I winged with the fragrant dews of heaven ?
: To give them costs ns nothing; but it of
| ten costs us an effort—a silent pang at the
■ heart, did we but confess it—to withhold
them ; for he- must indeed be a misan
. th rope, whose heart does not delight in go
ing forth to bless and be blessed.
The tear of sympathy never falls in vain.
; It waters and fertilises the soil of the most
sterile heart, and causes it to flourish with
j the beautiful flowers of gratitude and love.
; And as the summer clouds weep refresh
! merit on the parched earth and leave the
; skies more, beautiful than before, with the
rain-bow of promise arching in the cerule
i an dome, so the tear of sympathy not only’
refreshes the heart on which it drops, but
J if elevates and beautifies the nature of him
j from whom it springs. A sympathising
j heart is a spring of pure water bursting
j forth from the mountain side. Ever pure
j and sweet in itself, it carries gladness and
; joy on every ripple of its sparkling eur
! rent. — Willis Geist.
THE DYING INFIDEL DESCRIBED.
“ O, were my tongue dipped in the gall
of celestial displeasure, I would describe
the state of man expiring in the cruel un
certainties of unbelief. Ab, see everything
conspires to trouble him now. J. am dy
ing ; I. despair of recovering; physicians
have given me over; the sighs and tears
of my friends are useless ; the world cau
not euro me ; I must die ! It is death it
self that preaches to me. Whither am I
going? What will become of my body'?
My God, what a spectacle ! The horrid
torches, the dismal shroud, the coffin, the
tolling-bell, the subterranean abode ! What
will become of my soul ? lam ignorant
of my destiny, I am plunging into eternal
night? My infidelity tells me my soul is
nothing but a portion of subtle matter;
another world, a vision; immortality, a
fancy; but yet I feel, I know not what,
that troubles my infidelity. Annihilation,
terrible as it is, would appear tolerable to
me, were not the ideas of heaven aud hell
to present themselves to mein spite of my
self. I see heaven, that immortal mansion
of glory, shut against me. I see it at an
immense distance. I see it, but my crimes
forbid rne to enter. I see hell; hell which
I have ridiculed ; It opens under my feet!
I hear the horrible groans of the damned ;
the smoke of the bottomless pit chokes my
words, and wraps my thoughts in suffoca
ting darkness.”
Kuch is the infidel on his dying bed.—
J, T. BLAIIN, Printer.
This is not an imaginary flight; it is not
an arbitrary invention ; it is what we see
every dlty in those fatal visits to which
Muir ministry engages us, and to which God
seems to call us to be sorr&wfuf witnesses
of his displeasure and vengeance. This is
what infidelity is good for ; thus most-skep
tics die. —From a, .Discourse by Since in.
FACTS IN OUR HISTORY.
The first Baptisl church in Oip-v was or-
S ganized at a place called OoTurmwa, M .reb.
I 4iT9O, bv the late Dr. Gam*, of
\ ‘ ..jy^syr’
tucky; The first sermon jTOfciwmn vii’ “
on the Sabbath, was delivered by Dr. Sam
uel Jones, of Pa., in 1739. Dr.'Jobes was
then Chaplain in the army of General
Wayne.
The venerable Dr. Ferris, now of Law
renceburg, La., was present and heard the
discourse, andJboth of these facts are from
Iris lips.
The first Baptist church in Indiana was
constituted in 1791, by the Rev. Wm. Mc-
Coy, father of the late missionary McCoy.
This church was called Silver Creek, and
is yet in existence a few miles from New
Albany. It was onco nearly extinct
through Campbell ism and anti-missionism,
but having cleared itself from both, it is
again rising, coming up out of the wilder
ness, and oven has a colporteur of its own.
The first Baptist church in Kentucky
was formed most probably at Nolymn,
Hardin county, in 1782. Cedar Fork
church also was formed in 1782. These
were the first Protestant churches west of
the mountains, and they yet remain.
According to the liev. J. M. Peck, the
first Baptist church in Illinois was formed
May 20, 1796 —called New Design—twen
ty-eight members, the Rev. David Bagiev,
Pastor.
In these four States, after a lapse of
about sixty-five years, there are over two
thousand Baptist churches.— Fcarniner.
BE A CHRISTIAN INDEED.
There is such a thing as being almost a
Christian ;%s looking back into perdition ;
i as being not far from the. kingdom of heav
! en, and falling short at las?. The promise
t is made to him that hokieth last, hokielh
1 out to the end, aud oyetyqpi&th. Labor
ito Joj, get the thinks that are by hind, and
fHe who is content wiff; i4 ? d ■tnougb racc
j to escape hell and gef -tfrieavcn, and de
f Biref? no more, may be sure be Ivatb none
i at all, and is far from the kingdom of God.
| Labor to enjoy converse with God. Strive
! to do everything as in his presence and
| tor his glory. Act as in the sight of the
’ grave and eternity.
; Let us awake and fall to work in good
; earnest. Heaven and hell are before us.
: Why do we sleep ? Dullness in the ser
-1 vice of God is very uncomfortable, and at
i best will cost us dear ; but to be contented
! in such a frame is the certain sign of a hyp
! ocrite. Oh! how will such tremble when
i God shall call them to give an account of
j their stewardship, and tell them that they
ibe no longer stewards Oh ! live no more
| upon the invisible realities of heaven, and
; let a sense of their excellence put life into
| performances! For your preciseness and
I singularity, you must be content to be
laughed at. A Christian’s walking is not
I with men, but with God. He hath great
j cause to suspect his love to God, who does
l not delight more in conversing with God,
| and being conformed to him than in con
i versing with men, and being conformed to
! the world. How can the. love of God
I dwell in that man who liveil) without God
I in the world ?— Rev. John Janaway.
WALKING WITH GOD,
I love poverty, because Jesus Christ lov
ed.it. I love wealth, because it gives the
means of assisting the wretched. 1 wish
to deal faithfully with all men. I render
no evil to those who have none evil to me,
but I wish them a condition similar to mv
own, in which they would not receive from
the greater portion of men either good or
evil. lain to be always true, just and.
open towards all men. i have tenderness
of heart towards those whom Cod has
more strictly united to me. “Whether I
am alone or in the sight of men, I have
before me, in all my actions, the view of
God, who will judge them, and to whom I
have consecrated them all. These are my
feelings, and I bless ray .Redeemer every
uay of my life, and who lias planted them
in me, and who, from a man full of weak
ness, misery, lust, pride, and ambition, has
formed one victorious over these evils by
the power of that grace to which I owe
everything, since’ in myself there is noth
ing but fear and misery.— Pascal.
MOKAL SUASION.
Mr. Devereux, of Salem, in arguing in
favor of the bill to protect orchards, nurse
ries, gardens, <fcc., related the following sto
ry to show why such a bill was needed ;
One pleasant afternoon, while walking in
his garden, he caught a youngster in the
act of devouring a large melon. He put
his hand on the boy’s shoulder, and said :
“Mv boy, I don’t object to your taking
melons on account of their value, but to
the manner of your taking them. If in
stead of stealing them, you would come to
me I would give you what you wanted.”
The boy was evidently frightened, but he
Number 32.