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6 Cjrt Christian site. Rev. H. H. TUCKER, D. D., - - - Editor ■ SATURDAY, JANUARY 6, 1866. Editor’* Salutatory. The undersigned respectfully presents him self to tlie readers of the Index as temporary editor. Ilis connection with the paper may be what meu call permanent, but under pres eireu instances it is thought best to promise, (and that too, subject to the contingencies of this uncertain life,) nothing more than a few months of editorial service. If his career should be brief, let it be considered only as the first e< urse, the mere appetiser of a pro tracted repast which will improve as it pro ceeds. The publisher is a man of determined purpose, and has both the will and the means, if the blessing of God be added, to make the paper all that the religious and literary re s lives of the country will allow. Never but once before, and that was when he entered upon the work of the Gospel ministry, has the editor been so oppressed with a sense of responsibility. Then, he passed the thresh hd 1 that led to ministerial duty with tears and with trembling, and almost fainting under his heart-burden. He will not say that he is so burdened n>w. But knowing that his con gregation is suddenly increased in a moment, as it were, from hundreds to thousands, and that his utterances are not mere spoken words hr permanent r cor Is, and that hoe iters up on anew and untried field for which it may be that he is wholly unadapted, he confesses •o a dirinking which may be unmanly, but for iiieii his high sense of the importance of the duties before him must be his apology. Negative merits, to some extent at least, tfa* editor thinks he can promise. Nothing shall intentionally appear in this paper which is undignified, unkind or uncourtaous. If in a moment of haste or forgetfulness, a word should be uttered which is inconsistent with tin- spirit of Jesus, it is apologised for in ad vance, and the forbearance of the reader in voked in behalf of one, who with many efforts a I prayers, has never been able to bring his practice up to his theory. It’ a word of pleasantry should sometimes find its way to the surface and leap out into air, it is hoped that even the gravest reader will not lie offended. Smiling columns, like s-n:!:ng faces, are most attractive; and that is i. -t the highest order of piety which tends to tieisin. Still the editor is fully sensible t if the habit of the paper as well as of the man ought, at all times, and especially in a * : as the present, and after the awful ex periences of the hist four years, to be thought ful and sober. Now that society is disorganised by the great upheaval that has just taken place, and n. *w that much distrust between the \% hites and and so much soreness of fivling lietweeWlie North and the South, the editor will try to remember and be guided by the saxing of the Saviour: “ Blessed are the peace makers, for they shall be called the children of God.” His endeavor will be to ritllllOlk* conflicting c': .dents by presenting to each side views from the stand-point of the other, and by inculcating principles of mutual forb -aranee and forgiveness. Extremes will be avoided, and with the most conservative spirit, a golden mean pursued. The editor is himself a Southern man— Southern by birth—as were his ancestors be fore him toe six or seven generations—South ern in all his habits of thought and sympa thy s. But lie hopes lie is still a Christian man. and as such, bis attempt will be to ele vate himself and his readers above sectional feelings and pandering to no prejudice, to take a wide and catholic view of the interests of the whole country, and indeed, of the whole ra • Tie will spare no effort to supply sub stantial :ni wholesome nourishment to the minds and souls of those who look to him for it: to give a wise direction to public opinion, and to make truth and duty attractive to all. \Y th those aims he commends himself to the n lulgence of his readers, to the prayers of the pious and to the favor of his God. 11. 11. Tucker. 4 * ISitferlo hath the Lord Helped Us.” TheL< rd had just delivered the children of Israel, over whom Samuel was judge, from the hand of their enemies. Samuel, in order t* keep the people in constant rememberance of this deliverance, erected a monument anil called the name of it Eben-Ezer. This name : s a compound of Hebrew words, signifying literally. “The Stone of Help.” Such a m nument as this would keep fresh in the minds of the people, the event it was designed to commemorate, and the name would serve to remind them that on the occasion referred to, thev needed help and received it. It has always been common among the peo ple of God, even at ordinary times, but par ticularly on occasions of special blessing, not ride- 1 actually to raise a stone in commemo ration of God’s goodness, but to exclaim in words or in substance—“ Hitherto hath the Lord helped me.” How familiar is Zion’s song ? “ Here I raise my Ebenezer, Hither by thy help I’m come, And I hope by thy pood pie: sure, Safely to arrive at home.” Perhaps many have sung these lines with out understanding them. The expression, “ Here I raise my Ebenezer,” as we use it, is figurative, and denotes that we make a record, not on a stone as Samuel did. but as it were, on our memory and on our hearts—a record testifying that up to this time God has been onr helper, and that it is by his providence that we are sustained. The beginning of anew year is an impor tant era in the life of every one. A certain number of these annual revolutions of time, each one of us is destined to see. That nmn lx-r is now less by one than it ever was be fore. Perhaps one or two more such subtrac tions tnav exhaust the number, and we shall be removed to a world where time is no more. Or it mav be that what a prophet once said to a certain man, may be fulfilled in the writer or in the reader, as it was in the unhappy man to whom it was addressed : “THIS YEAR THOU SHALT DIE ! ” Years are important things. At tie end of THE CHRIST IAN INDEX: ATLANTA, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, JANU ARY 6, 1866. each one we seem to pass a milestone which marks our progress to the tomb. These mile stones are not many in number, at the most, and the passing of each one is an era which is worthy of notice. At every such epoch, nothing is more proper than that we should look back over all the course that we have come; reflect on all that we have received, and all that we have enjoyed, and exclaiming in our hearts: “ Hitherto hath the Lord helped us,” raise up an Ebenezer over against every milestone in the path of time. How much and how constantly have we needed help. In infancy, without parental care, a few hours would have terminated our mis erable existence. The you- gos no animal is so helpless, and Providence seems thus to leach us, that the very first lessen of life— the lesson of our helplessness should be recommended to the last, in mature years we are in fact just as helpless as we were in the first day of infant life. What can we do w hen disease is in the air, and the very i breath we inhale to sustain life is freighted ; w T ith the seeds of death? We fly to our strongholds like frightened creatures, and en- * trench ourselves behind the poor preventives j which science has discovered, but the angel of j disease flies right through our barriers and does its work of death. We who write and I read to-day, are safe thus far, the cause of | which, though invisible, is not the. less real. Disease itself is invisible, and so is the hand \ that has delivered us from it. How r helpless is a man arnid a storm of I bullets! Yet many who will read these lines j have passed through the leaden tempest un hurt! Whose hand turned aside the whistling j shot and bursting shell ? None but His who j numbers the very hairs of our head. In that ; awful hour, vain was the help of man. Lm>k ! back, soldier, and see if in the rage of battle j you did not need and receive the aid of a ‘ merciful and overruling Providence. But aside from that .helplessness w hich per j tains to the things of this life, there is another kind of imbecility, which it is even more im portant to consider. We are sinners—God is holy. Suppose we were yet without help Suppose Christ had not died for the ungodly. What step could we take to work out out own salvation? Or now that Christ has died, if we do not avail ourselves of his death, what is our condition ? Thank God if w-e have needed help, we have also had it. We are alive. We could not have kept ourselves alive—God has kept us. We aie out of perdition. We could not h tv kept ourselves from the destruction with which the fallen angels met. God the Son has been our helper. lie loved us before the world began, and it is by virtue of his medi ation that we are spared for a time, and al lowed a season of probation here. In this sense the whole world may be said to b< partakers of Christ’s salvation. The blessings of Providence to the race are as much the purchase of the atonement as the blessings of grace to the elect. We ought to remember that the help we have had has been undeserved. Nor can it In said that as God has created us, He ought t< sustain and save us. If we had always a etc. in obedience to His will, we might urge tin argument with better But when our *■ whole life is a perpetual contradiction of His will, we cannot demand blessing from Him as matter of right. God cannot be under obli gations to make himself partireps erhnims In sustaining his creatures in sin. The interces sionof a Mediator justifies Him in suspending the blow for a season, and thus His mercy gives us time to repent and opportunity to be ; saved, but if when the day of grace is over, we are still rebellious, lie is so far from being under obligation to sustain us, that lie is actu ally under obligation not to do it. We must remember, too, that the help we have had, has been in many instances unso- j licife t. Help for the soul was volunteered before the world was made. Help for the body is with many, never a subject of prayer, with others the subject of feeble, infrequent, ! perfunctory and faithless prayers, and with most of us, perhaps, of prayers incited nit re ly by the lusts of life. We should also observe that the help we have received has been in many cases more , and better than we could have conceived of. , and, therefore, more than we could have aske ! j if we had been disposed to ask. Aside from salvation from sin, which, without revelation, we should never have dreamed of, we have j many temporal wants that we know not of, i but the pain of which, if they were misapplied, j would make us very miserable. It requires as great an exercise of wisdom to know what our wants are, as it does of power to be able to supply them. Hence, if nothing were I given us but what we especially ask for, we 1 should roon be very destitute. Nor are we j able to appreciate the magnitude of the least, of the blessings we receive. A moment of life in this world may make us a degree or many degrees happier in an eternal world. We somtimes wonder why the puny infant i and the sick and the aged are allowed to linger and languish for days or months. God counts these days and months and moments, lie knows that they are doing their work. It mav be that every moment will add another jewel to the crown—another city to the scep tre. Thus a life which seems to us to lx* a burden and almost a curse, may be a blessing which transcends our utmost conceptions. And all the help, undeserved, unsolicited and beyond our powers of appreciation, has been bestowed in spite of our forgetfulness, thanklessness, sin and rebellion. We have persisted in sin, and God has persisted in goodness. So resistless is the flood of infi- j nite benevolence that even sin, like mountains, cannot stay its tide. How different our feelings are towards our ! gracious Benefactor, from what they ought to be ! How tame our gratitude—how weak our love. To say nothing of preceding years, j we have just passed through four dreadful years of peril and blood. Our friends have ! perished, alas, alas! But we are here. Smit-1 ten it may be, impoverished and bereaved, but still alive, and still partakers of Provi- : dential goodness. We have been preserved from the terror that cometh by night, and the ! arrow that flieth by day, from the pestilence that walketh in darkness, and from the. de destruction that walketh at noonday. Thou sands have fallen at our side, and ten thousand j at our right hand, but it has not come nigh us. Goodness and mercy have followed us all the days of our life. “ Hitherto hath the Cord helped us,” and let every saint say, “ Bless the Lord, O, my soul!” How wicked are they who never think of God. Is there any depravity so deep as that which forgets the God of providence and of salvation, or which, if it remembers, remem bers only to dislike and disobey ? Surely God’s mercy is infinite or it would have been exhausted long ago. Unconverted men often say that they can not be driven, but that they may lx- led. Let the goodness of God then lead them to repen tance. Is there anything greater, more lovely, more winning, more attractive? Is there any thing that can surpass the goodness of God? If this cannot lead men they can never be led. Arid if the y can neither be driven nor led,and persist in alienation from God, what must their future be? The Lord fans helped them hitherto, but there is no promise that he will help them any more. Impious and daring, every breath they draw is another experi ment upon divine forbearance to which there is a limit. Let saints and sinners seize the present mo ment. L.et every heart-throb be a throb of gratitude and love. From these motives let all our life take its color, and thus every deed, and word, and breath will be an Ebenezer, and be an acknowledgment that the Lord is our God, and that we aie Ilis people. lie who has helped us hitherto, will not forsake us. Dying, we may whisper with pale lips and spent breath, “Ebenezer,” and having en tered the celestial city, join hands and voices with the redeemed, and looking back to earth, exclaim, w ith unutterable gr ititude and witli joyous emphasis, “Hitherto hath the Lord HELPED US! ” Tile Frcedmeii. For months past, many of the Freedrnen have unfortunately been possessed with the notion that at “Christmas” the lands would be divided among them ; and a few were even so insane as to imagine that they would live in fine houses and ride in carriages and have white people to wait upon them. Others again, more rational, hut still foolish, supposed that while the lands would not be divided among them in fee simple, they would still be able to rent lands and conduct farms on their own account, forgetting that even if they had the lands they would be bare of houses, barns and fences, and that live stock and agricultural implements,and also provisions enough to last till a crop could be made, say next October, would still be wanting, and that while they were accumulating these things of which there could be no prospect, starvation would over take them. How they came by these wild notions of independence, it is needless to in quire, but the effect upon the minds and upon their condition has been most unhappy. They utterly refused to make contracts for the year 1866 on any terms whatever. Many of them organized themselves into societies, the object of which was to sustain each other in the po sition that they would never work as hired laborers, but only as independent farmers. brought no the would come. Towards the close of the week the dream began to vanish, and the reality broke upon them that they must either labor for hire, or not labor at all. Some took one course and some the other. Those who desired to hire laborers, generally succeeded in doing so. But there seem to be vastly fewer laborers employed than formerly, partly because many of the blacks were not anxious even with the stern facts before them, to en gage themselves, and partly because the whites did not wish to engage them ; and this was partly because they had not the means to en gage them, and partly because they lacked confidence in the reliableness of their labor. The result is as above stated, that many who have hitherto been always comfortable and well provided for are now suddenly out of e nployment, and almost without means. Suffering, mortality and crime, and a general disturbance of social peace among all classes, would seem to be the natural consequence of this condition, a consequence which all fear may soon be upon us and which many confi dently predict. May God put it into the hearts of these poor people to do what they can for themselves, and into the hearts of oth ers to do what they can to assist them, and so order his Providence as to avert the evils which to mortal eyes seem inevitable. Rapiint liecoiDtriielion. We have on hand several ably written ar ticles in opposition to union of organization on she part of Northern and Southern Baptists. We beg leave to say to our esteemed corres pondonts that as the Baptists where our paper circulates, are almost unanimous in opposition to this measure it is needless to discuss it. One of our correspondents while he argues strongly against the movement spoken of, still expresses the wish that that state, of feel ing may soon take place which will remove one of the present obstacles to union, even if for other reasons such change should be deemed ; inexpedient; and in this wish, we think he is joined by all good men. Fosfion or Northern Baptist* A writer in the AT. T. Examiner &• Chron- \ icle, who signs himself G. W. E., whose initials i taken in connection with the place of date, | Hamilton, N. Y., will suggest his name to ! many, has published an article of nearly two j columns in length, for which he desires South- j ern circulation. If we thought the article would even tend towards the object which the writer proposes, which object is conciliation, we should gladly publish it entire. But we think that the greater part of what he has written would do more harm than good, if published here. And if the utterances of one who is evidently moved by a right spirit, are so thoroughly distasteful to the people of this latitude, that we cannot re-publish them here, what could we expect from those whose spirit is not so good ? The fact is, the stand-point j of the Northern and Southern Baptists is so j different that it is impossible for them to think alike or to feel alike. We trust that time and j grace may do their appropriate work. We quote an extract from G. W. E.’s article, though there are some expressions in it about sin, &c., which are not calculated to produce j the best impression here. We also desire especially to prernisejthat the “ union of hearts an<l hands” of which he speaks, does not ne cessarily imply a union of religious organiza tions, a thing which any one who knows the feelings of both parties, as we do, must decide to be wholly impracticable. Neither party is prepared for it, and it is far from certain that this measure would be expedient, even if the feelings of the parties were all that could he desired. The article is headed “ THE SOUTHERN PROBLEM.” 1 greatly mistake the temper of my Baptist brethren in the North, if they exact any hum bling confessions of their brethren to them as a condition of restoring* fellowship. They do think you have been - greatly in the wrong in the part you have taken in the late Pro Slavery rebellion ; but the sin, whatever it may be, has been mainly against your country and your God To them you must answer. If you settle the controversy with them, we have j nothing to ask for ourselves. In common with thousands of others, our families are r >bed in the habiliments of mourning, for fathers, sons and brothers, slaughtered in this dreadful strife. But you are suffering like afflictions, and we would rather sit down with you, and mingle our tears with yours over a comne n grief, rish feelings of un seemly triumph—much less of unchristian re venge* ****** As bivthren of the same faith and hope, we j are willing to let “ bygones be bygones,” and i * join hearts and hands with you in studying ! and working for the things which “ make for ! , peace,” love, mercy and good fruits. Truly, ! ] a most stupendous work has been thrown by ‘ Providence on the hands of Baptists, North and South ; and it cannot be well done wi h outa union of hearts afi'd eo operation of hands. Here are millions of hum, n beings brought into anew social existence, invested with all the rights of a common humanity, who must be educated and Christianized. More than to any other—more than to all other denomina- | tions, do they look to Baptists for intellectual and spiritual light and instruction. Can we not rise above all party and .sectional dilfi-r ----ences, and, under a solemn sense of the tre mendous responsibility imposed upon us by our common Head and Lord, address our | selves, with united hearts, to the duty before us. The peace, and safety of the South, tin* honor and welfare of the whole nation, and the j cause of the Redeemer,” depend upon the right discharge of the duty. . I have been moved to write this article solely to aid in the work of conciliation, by showing that the barriers alleged by our Southern brethren are not so great on tin* part of the Nor has they think. I have used lan guage simply to give what l suppose to he ■ the Northern idea, and not to give offence. G. W. E “ Let your women keep silence in thechur- j dies,” is an apostolic injunction which we of the South have seldom or never violated, and which we trust will ever be held as sacred throughout the world as any other part of the word of God. Yet we take great pleasure in copying from the New York Examiner, the j following thrilling narrative of facts, and heartily join in commendation of the honora ble woman : Words fitly Spoken.— The opinion wide- j ly prevails, that no ordinary occasion will ! justify a woman in public disputation. Bit i such occasions may occur, as the following ah- ‘ i stract of an interesting incident, communicated j jto the Evangelist, indicates. The writer is j a lady of Leavenworth, Kansas, and she was ’ herself the heroine which she mod : estly describes. Apreacher had givenU ! notice that he to Protestants at : the Roman Catholic church, and this lady was induced to attend. The sermon abounded i with falsehoods and slanders difficult to be 1 listened to patiently by an intelligent person. At length he came to assert that “Protestants have no sacrifice for sin”—he was speaking of; the “host”—and added : “You are the only ; people under heaven of whom this can be j said. Why, the Jews had a sacrifice ; even tht- heathen had a sacrifice. We have this ; you Protestants have no sacrifice.” He then asked: “ What sacrifice have you ?’ and in the midst of a profound silence, triumphantly repeated the inquiry : “What sacrifice have you Protestants ?” Without knowing what she said, or how she said it, the lady answer ed, a voice clear and strong: “Jesus Christ, crucified once for all!” The priest tried to proceed. “ Once fin* all /” repeated the voice, with firm and solemn emphasis. “Put her out!” cried the Jesuit, as soon as he recovered himself. But as a movement was made by j zealots near by to execute the order, Col. Jennison, well known in Kansas, with seve- I ral others, surrounded the offender, with as pect so resolute that no one dared to carry out tlx* priest’s wishes, nor did he think it safe to reiterate the order. Resuming his dis course, confusedly, he repeated the words which had interrupted him, saying, in his be wilderment: “Yes, crucified once for all;” and after this unintentional contradiction, stumbled lamely to his conclusion. i Ord ina! ion* Ex|raortli na rv. On Saturday, December 16, 1865, a Pres | bvtery, consisting of Drs. W. T. Brantly i and 11. Id. Tucker, met at the Baptist church ■ at Bethesda, Greene county, Georgia, and in i compliance with the request of the church, ordained Wm. A. Overton to the work of the Gospel ministry. Public examination of the i candidate by Dr. Tucker. Introductory ex- I . cruises, sermon and charge to the candidate by Dr. Brantly. Ordaining prayer by Dr. Tucker. Benediction by the candidate. On Saturday afternoon the Presbytery repaired ! to Greensboro, a distance of ten miies. and | there on Sunday morning, December 17, at : ; the request of the church, ordained Philip P. Robinson to the ministry. The examination ! was conducted in private. The order of ex- j | ercise, was the same in other respects with ; those of the preceding day. Sermon and j i charge by Dr. Brantly. Ordaining prayer by Dr. Tucker. Benediction by the candidate. In the afternoon of the same day, at the re quest of the same church, two negroes were ordained, Valentine Kingand Boatswain Early, the Presbytery consisting of H. H. Tucker and Philip B. Robinson. The examination was conducted in private, but was thorough and satisfactory. Sermon and charge by Dr. Tucker. Ordaining prayer by brother Rob inson. Benediction by brother King. From the above it will be seen that one of Presbyters ordained four men in two days, two white and two black, and three of them in one day; and that another ordained two. men— two at once, on the very day on which j he was himself ord lined. The occurrence is at least unusual—perhaps such as never took place before, and is not likely to be repeated. Certainly it is a inattpr of gratitude to God, that he is putting more laborers into his vine yard. Brother Overton is a prominent citizen farmer, of Greene countv. Brother Robinson i has been a successful lawyer for some years, and brother Early has accepted a call to the pastorship of the Penfield African church. Ulinisteiia! Support. Consecration and support of the ministry are correlative duties. When a minister of the Gospel consecrates himself to the work of’ w nning souls and of edifying the saints, he is, in the judgment of every equitable mind, e n titled to a support from those to whom he devotes his time and talents. “If we have j sown unto you spiritual things,” says the , apostle, “is it a great thing if we reap your carnal things?” And he further developes the truth upon this subject so as to leave his meaning stripped of the shadow of a doubt. Read what he has written : “ Even so hath the Lord ordained that they which preach the Gospel, live of the Gospel.” j • The support of the ministry is an ordinance of God, as much to be observed as any other \ divine enactment, and all who acknowledge | the claims of the Gospel in other things, 1 should recognise this as a duty also. But it ! ! may be asked, what are we to understand by j | the support of the ministry ? Is it the pay ment of a certain, stipulated amount? The | j writer thinks not. A minister should neither : ! be allowed to want, nor should he be made i rich by his parishioners; but he should be j enabled to live in a style upon an equality i with that of those among whom he lives and : j for whom he labors. If his people are able to live in luxury, and j | do so live, he should be so well supplied as j not to excite the contempt of his neighbor; i fa* that could not tail to reflect, upon the church to which he ministers, and thus hinder the success of the Gospel. It is plain that if a minister fall into contempt, on account of j the pinching po\ei*ty to which his people con sign him, the greatest injury will fall upon the church in the end. A discriminating public will think meanly of a people who subsidize a minister’s time, talents and energies, and then leave him to eke out a scanty subsistence as 1 best lie may. Self respect,, to say nothing of i higher motives, should prompt a church to the j ; liberal support of their minister. It is to the j interest of a church that the pastor should be able to reach every class of the community, i and hence they should support him so well that he will feel no embarrassment in going into the best circles. The idea of consigning a minister and his family to the obscurity of penury is as unwise :asit is unjust. His support is voluntary and is, to all intents and purposes, a debt of honor, I and no right-minded man will be less inclined | to remunerate him for his services, as far as pecuniary aid can do it, because he cannot ren der a compulsory claim. Neither scripture nor custom permits a minister to make a spe cific charge for services rendered, and unless men act towards him from the promptings of a self-directing equity, he will stand before the ! community helpless as an infant, while lie has ; all the instincts and feelings of a man. The | writer has known instances in which a minis j ter paid for a conveyance at a livery stable to ride into the country in orderTo make some i | young couple one for life, without receiving a 1 cent in return, and that too in cases where the j parties were able to remunerate him. He j has also known instances in the city among j well to do people, where the minister has re ceived similar These facts are \ mentioned, not by way of complaint, but to show how little relianee a minister can place : upon what are usually denominated the per ; quisites of the office, and to present in stronger light the necessity for securing him a support beyond any such contingencies. The church should study the comfort of j their pastor and his family, while, he studies their spiritual welfare, and should not dismiss I their obligations when they have paid this or that amount. They should know, beyond a peradventure, that he has enough for all his j reasonable wants; hence not a week should 1 pass without sending Lim some token of their j love and appreciation. Little presents, in 1 themselves of small value, serve as links to keep up the connection between the pastor and his charge, and also help to lighten the intol- ! I erable burdens which he is sometimes com- i polled to bear. But all which I have written j thus far, looks to the material support of the i ministry, and now 1 propose to write some ! thing relative to moral support. A minister cannot long ho; ! out in a community which gives him no evidence of appreciation. But he has a right to look to his brethren for earnest and hearty co-operation in his efforts to extend the kingdom of the Saviour. As Aaron and Hur held up the hands of Moses while he j prayed for the success of Israel, so should the j church hold up the hands of the pastor while ! he prays and struggles against the powers of darkness. It is natural for men to desire sue cecs in what they undertake, and this desire oft< n looks no further than self-exaltation, but if a minister has correct views of his high vocation he desires to succeed because God will be glorified thereby. When the time for public service in the sanctuary arrives every well wisher to the cause of religion should re- I pair to the place of meeting, and contribute, by his or her presence and influence, to the ! success of the occasion. Nothing can have a more depressing influence upon the mind and heart of a minister of the Gospel, than to have the c >nvictim) forced upon him that he is : connected with unreliable people. To continue his labors with such will seem J too much like wasting the energies of life—too much like beating the air, and sooner or later j the most energetic will must succumb to such continued and adverse circumstances. A noble-hearted, courageous, unselfish min- ; ister may labor on for years under the most trying discouragements, but at last it will be found “that the hair breaks the camel’s back. ’ Religious people ought to be the last to run after novelties and sensations, and yet they are often found foremost in the unworthy pursuits. Ministers should be selected, not for their brilliancy, but for the solidity of their characters, and to this end they should always be proved. It is not the meteor that illuminates the path of the benighted traveler, but the fixed star which twinkles on through the hours of darkness until relieved by the j light of blushing morning. The work of the ministry is a serious undertaking, and when | he has solid merit he will he found standing at his post, with scarred front and battered ; shield, while the brilliant and dazzling splen-j dor of the eccentric genius “has paled its in- j effectual fires.” When such a man has been j found—a man prepared to work earnestly, j faithfully and perseveringly—he should be supported and encouraged until the Great King shall relieve him from the cross and place upon his victorious head the crown promised to those who shall endure to the end. Then happy will be the meeting of pastor and people in that bright land where “falls no shadow, rests no stain.” _c. -a— —- The Pastoral Office. No relation in society is more responsible, and save that of parent and child, few more intimate than that of pastor and people. In deed in some respects the Pastoral office is paramount to the parental. As the counsellor in the most important matters that ever inter • est the human mind, the pastor must, if he would rightly and fully discharge his functions pc ietrate into the recess of the heart, and be come thoroughly acquainted with its most secret workings. He must be ever ready to admonish the wayward, comfort the distressed and encourage those who weary and ready to halt, toil along the Christian pathway. Above all, he should atlbrd an example of patience, earnestness and practical piety, that his flock may learn how to live as much from his life as from his words. An office such as this is not easily filled, nor should it be assumed lightly, without duly considering its importance, in the selection of one who shall hold to them this high and holy relationship, a people cannot exercise, too much circumspection. The qualities which are requisite to make a good Pastor are not to be found in every man—indeed, we may say in very few in any imminent degree. Many make their choice solely by reference to a man’s ability in the pulpit, a test which is far from being the only one. Preaching to a people is not being their pastor; this is indeed one of his duties, but we are by no in aits sure that it is the most important. The min ister who calls to sec his pe iple occasionally, preaches an eloquent sermon, and then retires to setlwto more of them until his next appoint ment, may win much fame as a preacher, but he will do iittle good as a pastor. His sta tion requires more than this. He must indeed labor in the desk ; but he must likewise labor at the fireside. He must not only hold up the claims of the gospel to the multitude, but he must urge Divine truth upon the hearts anil consciences of individuals. It does not suffice that he have a general knowledge of human nature. He should have particular and special knowledge of the characters and spiritual wants of each of the people of his charge. To acquire this it is not necessary that he should establish himself in a confessional that the weaknesses and errors of ever y one may be poured into his ear. lint it does require that his position be one of permanence, it is not reasonable to suppose a clergyman any nearer endowed with an intuitive knowledge of men and things than the lawyer or physi cian. Men of these professions often labor in one field for half a score of years before they become well established in business, and the merchant not uutrequcntly remains at a local ity half a lifetime in the effort to place his fortune on a sure foundation. What is there in the ministerial calling that renders change of place more necessary for it than for others ? Does the minister require less time to acquire that accurate and intimate acquaintance with those whose spiritual welfare he is to overlook than others have to know those with whom they have to deal ? The proposition which we sometimes hear that every clergyman should change his field of labor once every four years, has no foundation in truth. On tin •, contrary, if he aims at being a pastor in the full acceptation of that term, and his people will heartily co-operate with him in his endea vors, the longer they remain together the more, fraught with mutual blessings will the. relationship become. There is something in expressibly noble and touching in the picture of a venerable clergyman who has grown old in the service of one community, “ nor e’er has changed, nor wished to change his place who nightly retires to his pillow attended by the fervent prayers of every heart in his par ish ; who has evi r ready a listening ear and a sympathizing tear for every plaint of sorrow ; who, while in the desk he earnestly strives to ill lire to brighter worlds, as anxiously tries to lead the way. It is lamentable, but true, that in this coun try we have few really good pastors. The I increased attention paid to the subject of min- | isterial education has given us some divines! whose pulpit exercises are a great improve, ment on those of former years. But rare indeed is it to find one who, in addition to preaching fine sermons, is zealous in discharg ing every duty of his office—who weds him self to a church with the determination of making it his lifetime task to build up her membership and establish her faith. The causes of this may be spoken of hereafter; but as many customs are now likely to be buried with the past, we trust a reform may be made in this particular. In nothing is re form more needed, and if it be rightly made, the result must be most salutary. 35e Hen of one Work. Dr. Chalmers began life with ambitious hopes. At first a dull scholar, his intellect afterward richly developed itself, and mathe matics became his favorite study. After his admission to the ministry, and during his set tlement at Kilmany, he became a professor of that branch in the University of St. An drew’s. Fie was then an unconverted ‘man, and as such he could easily be a pluralist. He felt that “after the satisfactory discharge of his parish duties, a minister may enjoy five days in the week of uninterrupted leisure for the prosecution of any science in which his tastes may dispose him to engage.’’ After the mighty revolution that was wrought in his soul by saving grace, all this was changed. His nearest neighbor, with whom he was very in timate, once said to him, “I find you are busy with one thing and another, but come w hen I may, I never find you at your studies for the Sabbath.” ‘O, an hour or two on Saturday evening is quite enough for that,” was his prompt reply. Afterward all was changed, and the same neighbor, observing it, said, “I never mine now, sir, but I find you are at your Bible.” “All too little, John, all too little!” was the significant reply. Speaking of the preaching that was the result of this fidelity in the closet and study, one of tile hearers said, “He would bend over the pulpit and press us to take the gift as if he held it that moment in his hand, and would not he satisfied till every one of us had got posses sion of it. And often, when the sermon was over and the psalm was sung, and he rose to pronounce the blessing, he would break out afresh with some new entreaty, unwilling to let us go till he, had made one more effort to persuade us to accept it.” In a letter to his mother, he writes : “You may tell my father that 1 have at length come to his opinion that the peculiar'” business of the profession demands all the time, all the talents, and all the energy that any minister is possessed of” In retracting before the General Assembly the publication from which the first extract was taken, he says: “I now confess myself to have been guilty of a heinous crime, and now stand a repentant culprit before the bar of this venerable A* sembly.” Alluding to his early ambition, he continues: “Strangely blinded that I was! What, sir. is the object of mathematical sci ence? Magnitude and the proportions of magnitude. But then, sir, 1 had forgotten two magnitudes. I thought not of the little ness of time; 1 recklessly thought not of the greatness of eternity !” Pursuant to this change, the unbounded in terest that afterward attended his ministry broke out. Nobl s sat at his feet; rapt thou sands hung upon his lips. Reformations ap peared, and the conversion of a soul was more to him than the applause of a world. lie did not become a recluse and devote himself to the studies that might by many be sup posed indispensable to maintaining his popu larity at the expense of eternity, lie became pastor. The, one he did ; the other was not left undone. Through lanes an i alleys, in garrets and cellars, fearless of odors or infec tions, In* hunted the lost sheep. T his he did through years of his ministry at Kilmany, at Glasgow, at Tron, at St. John’s, and at St. Andrew’s. Sabbith schools, and Bible class es and mission churches multiplied upon his hands, till the edifices lie had caused to be erected couid be counted by hundreds. For the Index. TIl Tcefi!, 13 Y A PHYSICIAN. Man is provided with two successions of teeth —those of childhood, twenty in number, called deciduous or mi He teeth, and those of adult life, thirty-two in number, sixteen in either jaw, are, called permanent because they continue until old age. The teeth of child hood commence making their appearance on an average, about the sixth month, and com plete the same between the second and third year. These are succeeded by the perma nent teeth, commencing between the sixth and seventh year, and ending about the twelfth. The wisdom teeth are developed between the eighteenth and twenty-first year. The teeth in relation to their functions are divided into three classes, incisors, canine and molars; the first have a cutting edge like a chisel and are intended to cut the food— thev attain their utmost development in the class of animals known as rodentea, such as the rabbit, bea er, squirrel,&c. The canine (do; ) teeth are used for tearing the food, and obtain their most perfect development in the carniv ora—animals which subsist, principally on flash —the tusks of the boar and elephant are canine teeth. The molar teeth are intended to grind the food like a mill-stone, and are so situated with regard to the fulcrum of the jaw as to exercise powerful pressure upon any substan ces placed between them—the instinctive mo tion by which, in order to crush a very hard body, we place it between the molars, is cer tainly connected with this arrangement. These teeth are most highly developed in her bivora—such as the horse. It is thus found that man is provided w ith a masticulating apparatus to cut, tear and grind his food, and is therefore ah omnivorous animal ; and in this is an argument furnished by the Creator against the one idea doctrine of the vegetari ans. Teeth are composed of three substances— tooth bone or ivory which constitutes the bulk of the tooth—enamel which forms a crust over the crown of the tooth—and a cortual sub stance which forms a covering for the root. Hie crown of the tooth is excavated into a cavity which contains the pulp, which is sup plied with vessels and nerves through a small opening in the root. One variety of tooth ache is produced by the exposure of the sensi tive pulp in the crown of the tooth from cams j or decay, 1 bat is when toom~Wos a cav’u’y’ 1 iii it. This variety of toothache is liable to j constant recurrence from the contact of cold ! water, cold air, etc. with the pulp, and tin-only I effectual remedy is extraction of the tooth— j “killing” the nerve is a proceeding ofdoubt j ful propriety. Another kind of toothache is j caused by inflammation of the membrane lining j the root of the tooth —this usually terminates ! in a “gum boil” which when op. ned affords ! complete relief. ! j The enamel which covers the crown of the I tooth when once destroyed is never reproduced, and hence the importance of preserving it from decay. Certain substances act upon this enamel and destroy it. Os these, the most important are certain acid medicines, such as sulphuric, muriatic and nitric acids with tin ir combinations. To obviate this inconvenience, all tnat is necessary is to wash the teeth well after taking any acid medicine, or indeed any medicine whatever. The teeth should be well cleansed after eating, for small particles of food remain deposited in the intervals between them, undergo decomposition, and thus grad ually destroy the enamel. ——-<***►► -tm General Grant’s Tour. —A dispatch to the New r York Herald says: General Grant had a protracted interview with the President this morning, and commu nicated to him the results of his observations during his recent trip through Virginia, North Carol ni, South Carolina, and a portion of Georgia lie was everywhere received with tokens of personal respect, and none were more forward in such manifestations than the leaders in the late rebellion. The discon tented, who stayed at home during the war, and the women, are our bitterest enemies. Words of Wisdom. —Ague said: “Give me neither poverty nor riches,” and this will ever In* the prayer of the w ise. Our incomes should be like our slmes : it too small, tln * v gall and pinch ns, but if too large, they w ill cause us to stumble and trip. But wealth, alter all, is a relative thing, since he that has little and wants less is richer than lie that has much, but wants more. True content ment depends upon what we have: a tub was large enough for Diogenes, but a world was too little for Alexander. \ Model Woman.—‘■ 3)i< 1 you not say, | Lllen. tliiit Air. 1} is poor ? ” “ A cs, ho has only his profession ” “ Will voiir undo favor his suit ‘?” “No ! and 1 can ox poet nothing from him.” ‘‘Then, Ellen, you will have to resign fash ionable society.” “No matter —I shall see the more of Fred.” “You must give up expensive dress.” 1 “ dh, Fred admires simplicity.” “ A on can’t, keep a carriage.” I>ut wo can have delightful walks.” “A on must take a small house and furnish ! it plainly.” “ Yes, for elegant furniture would be out of place in a cottage.” “Aon will have to cover your floors with thin, cheap carpets.” “ rhen I shall hear his stops the sooner.” A Religious Phenomenon. —At a recent quarterly meeting of the Methodist Church South, held at Mexico, Mo., the services eon sist< and of pray ng and singing ; no preaching, though several preachers were present. The explanation of this singular procedure is, that j the ministers could not. out of regard for their ! n li.ion, or their consciences, take die new constitutional oath; aid not wishing to disre j gard the law, the abstained from {reaching.